


Dorm 522

by michaelfalls



Series: Designers and Doctors [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Love, M/M, Medical Students Adam and Michael, Mutual Pining, Prequel to Novak Wears Prada, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 75,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26410573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaelfalls/pseuds/michaelfalls
Summary: Quietly, Michael asks, “Do best friends kiss?”Adam exhales lightly, mist dissipating in the air between them, and his eyes fall to Michael’s mouth.
Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan
Series: Designers and Doctors [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891804
Comments: 71
Kudos: 70





	1. Subcutaneous

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place 4 years before Novak Wears Prada where Castiel is only starting to get popular and Dean is still in fashion school. Castiel (and other NWP characters) is appearing a few times due to Chuck being Michael's father. The last chapter will include Dean and Castiel (from present-day).
> 
> While they're in the University of Wisconsin, I don't study there and therefore don't know the layout of the campus or how the school itself operates, so everything is purely fictional.
> 
> Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/085aBGt8HWtWvPCFXrmBL6?si=o0OD7kHgTw-a1icF08fK-A

**subcutaneous**  
 _adjective  
_ under the skin.

_It only takes four minutes to decide if you like someone or not._

Michael’s cutting knife scrapes through the tape binding the cardboard box flaps together, the two sides falling open to reveal his belongings. He takes out the carefully rolled up poster and sticks it by his bed. 

The small poster of _Moulin Rouge_ — he had gotten it after seeing the movie the first time years ago. He felt a little bit like Christian from the start of the movie when he said he’d never fallen in love and didn’t know what it was like. Michael related to the movie and maybe a small part of him wondered if he could ever learn love the way Christian did. He didn’t know a lot about it; an emotionally vacant father and an aunt who only knew affection with material things aren’t exactly good teachers.

Michael’s mother passed away when he was younger after his birth so Chuck’s older sister Amara had stepped in to help the widowed father raise his baby boy. He preferred Amara to Chuck — at least she didn’t resort to underhanded means to get what she wanted and Michael respected that.

Amara worked as a model for Chuck’s magazine’s photoshoots to promote fashion labels and often grabbed some pieces to give to Michael as gifts on top of free garments given to Chuck that he didn’t want. Michael’s wardrobe has more branded clothes than not as a result. Though where Amara and Chuck spilt with materialism, Michael didn’t. He took what was given with gratitude but didn’t buy any on his own.

Though, maybe it’s because he tried to fade from the view of his family. Michael didn’t like it when people know that his father is Chuck Shurley. It’s not because he runs Heaven Magazine, but rather because he just doesn’t want the attention or to be associated with his father’s frankly horrible work ethic. Chuck just wanted to get the best stories the fastest. To be first, you have to know it’s going to happen; no better way to know it will happen than setting it up yourself. Michael knows Chuck has organised things to get the story Heaven Magazine needs and he hated it. Though he’s voiced his disapproval of his father’s methods, it doesn’t mean he’s listened to. Chuck doesn’t care what Michael thinks.

Chuck doesn’t care about Michael, to begin with. But that’s a different story.

Michael had decided to move into his dorm at Wisconsin University early just so he can postpone dealing with his dormmate until after he returns from lunch. Thank God the first day was free for all and there were no classes until tomorrow. He picked the bottom bunk and the desk closer to the window and decides that if his roommate doesn’t like the top bunk or the desk by the door, then too bad. They should have been here earlier.

Michael doubted that his dormmate would be a girl. He’s sure that there’s a same-sex dormmate policy but he could also be wrong. He didn’t have much of a preference for who to share a room with anyway; he just hopes that whoever it is isn’t noisy or distracting. He wanted to get university over with as soon as possible and move out to New York.

He didn’t bring a lot with him — five of his favourite books so he could preserve space to borrow more from the library, a Walkman that his mother had wanted to leave for him before his birth (despite having no cassette tapes on hand), essential things like textbooks, notebooks, stationery and his laptop, plus a photo of him, Chuck and Amara. Of course, he brought clothes and decided that he would just buy toiletries when he was settled so he could make room in his boxes. Chuck also promised to prepare more clothes for him when he visits at the end of the first week so he’ll just have to wait and see how much Chuck is giving him. He picks the closet next to the bed instead of the one nearer to the door and hangs up his clothes. He mostly has long-sleeved shirts and jeans, all branded — again, Chuck’s fault.

Michael sets up his desk neatly. He decides that it’s safe enough to leave his laptop on his desk since he’ll lock the room when he leaves. On the laptop are the remnants of sticker glue that was too difficult to remove of a band Michael no longer listened to. He couldn’t find another sticker he liked enough to cover the unsightly dried glue and decided to just live with it. He has a small pen holder, an angel-themed one that Chuck gave him. He stacks his books against the wall alphabetically.

Once all his things are done up and he puts his bag on the bottom bunk so his dorm mate will know that it’s been picked, he locks the door behind him and leaves down the hallway.

**+**

“Got everything you need?”

“Yep, it’s all there,” Adam answers, shutting the car door as he settles himself in the passenger seat of the Impala, eyeing the boxes in the back as John gets into the driver’s side. “I’m gonna be so late.”

Because John cannot accept that Adam would rather go to campus on his own and because he still doesn’t trust Adam with the Impala, he insists on Adam waiting for him to get ready so he can drive him to the university. Unfortunately, his mother had to leave for work and couldn’t drive him in John’s stead. John is not a fast guy — alcohol and just his general gait don’t add up to efficiency so of course, by the time he’s putting the boxes in the backseat of the car, Adam’s already late. Thank God the university wasn’t in a different state and was only some distance from home.

John puts in a cassette in the car radio and the tinny sound coils around the space as classic rock plays. Adam does like old music but he guesses he prefers the quiet, funkier side over the noisy rock that John likes. He and John don’t have a lot in common which leaves very little room for small talk between them.

“Nervous?” John asks, probably a little uncomfortable with the silence as well which is saying a lot.

“I guess,” Adam answers haltingly. “I’m coming back this weekend, by the way.”

John nods and makes a left. “I’ll try to get off work early. Maybe you and I can grab some lunch together when you’re back.”

Adam gives a non-committal shrug.

The drive to school isn’t as long as he thought it would be but Adam still arrives late. Thankfully, he finds out from the front office that they suspended classes for the first day so students can orient themselves but Adam still feels awful about it because his dormmate has probably already picked a desk and a bunk.

John tries to help him to bring the boxes in but Adam insists that he can manage so John hugs him goodbye and drives away.

Turns out, Adam cannot manage on his own. The boxes are heavy as hell. Adam stares at the three large cardboard boxes and sighs, wondering how is he gonna bring them all to his dorm room. He sits down on a bench next to his boxes and stares at them, almost trying to will them into moving on their own.

Obviously, they don’t, and Adam’s too tired to try and carry them again, so he gives up and takes out his phone. He’s not sure what he thinks will happen if he sits there long enough — maybe some knight in shining armour will appear and help him. Maybe he’s just waiting until he has more energy to lift them on his own. Maybe he should get something to eat.

Adam contemplates the idea of leaving his boxes there and running across campus to get a burger. Then he just shakes his head. “You’re so stupid.”

He looks back at his boxes and sighs. “What the hell am I gonna do with you?”

**+**

By the time Michael is on his way back to the dorm, he’s already picked out stalls in the cafeteria that he’ll definitely be trying out the food at when class begins tomorrow, plus a spot that’s more secluded than the rest of campus. It’s a small place near the back of it that was empty, spare a semi-presentable field. Maybe he’ll come here if he needs time alone and the dorm room isn’t enough.

He looks through his texts while walking back, finding a new one from his aunt.

 **[9 January 2010, 2:13 PM]  
Amara Shurley: **Good luck today kiddo! Not sure if classes start today or tomorrow but I’m sending you some stuff that I got from this new designer Chuck’s gonna interview on Sat. It’ll probably arrive tomorrow. **  
**

 **[9 January 2010, 2:15 PM]  
Amara Shurley: **Hey, maybe you might get to meet the designer when you come back this weekend! You’ll probably like him. Reminds me a bit of you.

He texts back a thank you and that he looks forward to meeting the designer, though in all honestly, Michael hated meeting new people. He did like his aunt, however, so maybe the designer isn’t so bad. He trusted her judgement.

Busy with typing his reply, Michael fails to see the boxes in front of him and his foot catches onto the side. He quickly reaches out a hand to stop himself from hitting the ground, eyes widened with being caught off-guard, and he almost doesn’t hear someone saying, “Oh, shit.”

Michael instinctively grabs the closest thing to him to steady himself, the thing turning out to be whoever said ‘Oh, shit’ so ungracefully, and his other hand slams his phone down onto one of the boxes on the ground in time before he can fall. Thankfully, he doesn’t actually trip which would have been all manner of embarrassing.

Michael straightens himself up and looks to see whose arm he’d grabbed in his disorientation. He follows the arm up to the face of a blonde boy with bright blue eyes and a sheepish grin that says, "I'm sorry."

God, Michael _really_ hates meeting new people.

He stares, dumbfounded, but clears his throat and takes his hand off the boy’s arm. “No, it's my fault, I tripped over your boxes. I didn’t see them.” He raises his phone as a way of explanation and the boy nods, chuckling a little bit as if he gets the distraction.

“Shouldn’t have put them there anyway,” he says, accepting the fault. “Is your phone okay? Hit my box pretty hard.”

Michael checks it — no cracks on the screen. The box is made of cardboard anyway and though it’s filled with books, at least at the top, it’s not to the brim. He answers, “My phone is fine.” Looking over the boxes and the boy just sitting there, Michael frowns. “Do you need help?”

“These are a bitch to carry,” the guy admits, a little shameful.

“Which one’s heavier?” Michael asks. The boy points out the box Michael hit and he picks it up to the boy’s surprise. “Alright, lead the way.”

“No fucking way,” the boy gapes, moving to lift the other box. “How the hell are you carrying that with one arm? You’re Superman or something.”

Michael smiles, amused. “It’s not that heavy.” Attempting to make conversation as they enter the dorm building, he asks, “What are you studying?” He’d promised Amara before leaving for the university that he would try to make friends. He was never very good at making any but he intended to keep his word to his aunt.

“Medicine,” Adam answers, turning a corner into the dorm building as Michael follows him. “What about you?”

"Me too," Michael says. He follows the boy up to his floor and Michael realises that they're staying on the same one. At least if they become friends, it'll be easy to stay in touch. As they make their way down the hallway slowly past the numbered doors, Michael asks, "Which dorm is yours?”

The boy stops in front of a door, answering, “This one over here." Michael stares at him, fascinated, as the guy pats his pockets and mumbles, “Shit, forgot to get my key from the office. Do you mind waiting here while I run down and get it?"

Michael smiles slightly, amused, and takes out his key, saying, “It’s alright, I have mine.”

The guy nods in relief. "Thanks, I —" He cuts himself off, staring as Michael turns his key in the lock, and asks, amazed, "Are we roommates?”

“I believe we are,” Michael says, oddly cheery about it, letting the door swing open. “Welcome. My name’s Michael.” He puts the box down and Adam places his one on it.

"I'm Adam," the boy replies, looking around the room. Adam frowns just then, saying, “I can’t believe you got the window desk.”

“If you wanted it, you should have moved in before me,” Michael says simply and Adam pulls an appalled look at him.

“I see how it is,” Adam says, almost challenging, and Michael can’t help but smile. Michael gets his penknife and it clicks before he helps Adam to get the tape off of the top of the boxes. “So you took the lower bunk.”

“I don’t want to bother with the ladder,” Michael mumbles, taking out the books from the box and putting them on Adam’s desk with him. “Do you have a problem with that too?”

Adam shakes his head. “No, I like the upper one anyway. King of the room.” Michael gives him an incredulous look at his logic but doesn’t say anything, helping Adam unpack. “What’s your last name?”

Michael hesitates for a second. “Shurley.”

Adam recognises it. “I think I’ve seen it before. A supermodel, right? Amara or Amanda or something.”

“Amara,” Michael affirms. “My aunt.”

“Dude, that’s awesome. Imagine having a celebrity as a relative,” Adam marvels. He sits on the lower bunk to sort through his clothes. “Do the paparazzi follow you around?”

Michael decides to just humour his questions. At least this means he’s making a friend. “Sometimes. They usually leave me alone when I’m, well, _alone_. When I’m with her or my father, they follow us.”

Adam raises an eyebrow, putting a shirt aside. “Your father?”

“Chuck Shurley. Editor-in-chief for a fashion magazine,” Michael provides. Adam nods slowly, obviously not as familiar with Chuck as he is with Amara, but then Michael’s sure that most people didn’t know magazine CEOs if they weren’t in the fashion industry. Adam gets the leftover hangers from the shared wardrobe and Michael says, “If you need more, I’ll free some up for you.”

“Sure,” Adam smiles. He glances over Michael’s clothes as he hangs his own up and remarks, “You have a lot of branded stuff.”

“My father and aunt get a lot of these so they tend to pass them off to me when they see something they don't want to keep,” Michael explains. He sees Adam interesting himself in a Louis Vuitton sweater and says, “If you want it, you can have it. I rarely wear that anyway.”

“Really?” Adam says, a faint smile on his face. Michael's a little unsure as to why he's so willing to give away his clothes to someone he met today — his previous boyfriend had to try for at least three months before Michael finally let him steal a sweater. In hindsight, maybe that's why the relationship failed. Adam shakes his head, declining, “No, it’s okay. I was just looking. Is there any brand you _don’t_ have?”

Michael answers, flipping through one of Adam’s comic books — _Deadpool and Cable_. “There’s this new designer that my father is interviewing this weekend that I’ll be meeting. I don’t have anything of his.”

“Who is it?” Adam asks.

“I don’t know, I’ll be meeting him on Saturday,” Michael replies. He holds out the _Daredevil_ comic book. He looks back up at Adam and asks, “Are you going home on the weekend or staying here?”

“Going home,” Adam grins brightly. “Mom’s gonna make my favourite.”

Michael asks with a light smile, “What’s that?”

“Burgers,” Adam answers excitedly, now moving on from clothes to his desk. “Are you and your family gonna do anything other than that interview?”

“Maybe take a walk around New York City,” Michael says, shrugging.

At that, Adam perks up. “You live in New York? No way.”

“You’ve never been to New York?”

“Never,” Adam admits, taking his laptop out of his bag to put on the desk.

Michael is slightly surprised but he also knows not everyone gets to visit NYC. A part of him thinks about inviting Adam but he already has plans with his family. And what if they don’t actually get along and he’s already invited him to New York? Michael really doesn’t want to deal with that. Making friends is hard. In the end, Michael doesn’t say anything, only saying placatingly, “Maybe one day, you’ll get to.”

“Hope so,” Adam replies. “After this, you wanna take a walk through —“ He cuts himself off, in thought, before remedying, “You already went around campus. Never mind.”

“I can go again if you’d prefer not to go alone,” Michael offers.

Adam grins, sunny. “How did I land the nicest roommate here?”

Michael helps Adam sort out the remainder of his belongings before they leave their room, deciding to get Adam's key from the front office only on their way back. As Michael locks the door, he turns and almost crashes into a boy who comes out of the opposite door.

"Not again," Michael mutters, stopping himself from rolling his eyes in exasperation before it can be taken as rude.

“Man, I’m sorry,” the boy apologises. He has on a branded jacket that Michael knows is at least a hundred dollars so he automatically assumes the guy's a fashion student.

"Are you doing fashion?" Adam asks, looking over his outfit as well.

The boy grins, nodding. "Yeah. I'm Kevin Tran."

“Adam Milligan,” Adam returns amiably and Michael is in awe of how easy it is for Adam to make friends. There’s something about Adam that was magnetic, almost, like when Michael almost invited him to New York with him after knowing him for barely an hour. When Michael still doesn’t introduce himself, Adam does it for him. “This is Michael.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kevin says, giving them a warm smile. “Hey, my roommate and I are gonna head out and get early dinner if you wanna come along.”

Adam looks back at Michael as if silently asking permission. At Michael's half-hearted shrug, he accepts happily, "Yeah, we'll go with you. I think Michael ate already though."

"Oh, that's okay, I ate already too," a British boy says from behind Kevin. Like Kevin, he has on at least two branded pieces of clothing so he's probably rich. "I'm Mick, Kevin's roommate."

Michael is mostly quiet while going around campus for the second time with Adam, Kevin and Mick, letting the three talk among each other instead. Kevin and Adam get along very well because as Michael has come to realise, they're both very alike to two excited puppies. Mick is a little more like Michael in that he's not as enthusiastic as them but Michael still feels like the outsider. 

By the time it’s almost 5, the four split off to their respective dorms with the takeout pizza they got from off-campus. Kevin and Mick apparently already have some personal projects they’re working on and wanted to get back early. Adam is disappointed to let his new friends go so soon but relents, saying goodbye at the dorm door before shutting it behind him and Michael.

“Are you excited for class tomorrow?” Adam asks, putting their box of pizza down on his desk since it’s closer to the door.

“For the homework? No,” Michael answers, leaning past Adam to get a slice out, the cheese trailing under it. “You?”

“Same,” Adam agrees, taking a slice of his own and sitting at his desk chair, facing Michael who’s on his bed. “Today was fun. Kevin and Mick are great, this pizza is _amazing —_ ” He moans as he takes a bite of his pizza, making Michael chuckle. “— and looks like you’re popular on campus already.”

Michael looks at him, frowning, his hand lowering the pizza from his mouth. He has no idea what Adam is talking about. “ _Popular_?”

Adam gives him an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? So many girls were paying attention to you today. I think one fainted.”

Michael scoffs. “You’re exaggerating. Nobody fainted.”

“Okay, maybe, but Kevin pointed out to me that girls keep looking at you and I couldn’t unsee it,” Adam says, amused at Michael’s obliviousness.

Carelessly, Michael says, going back to his pizza, “Well, to be fair, I don’t pay much attention to girls. I’m gay, for one thing.”

Adam pauses. “Oh. Sorry, should not have assumed.”

“It’s alright,” Michael assures.

“Too bad for them, then,” Adam jokes, moving to sit next to Michael on his bed. “I’m more Adam and Steve anyway.”

Michael almost chokes on his pizza, sending Adam into a fit of laughter, and Michael thinks they might get along just fine.

**+**

The first week of school passes fairly quickly; Adam had homework that he finished without too much struggle. Given that it is the first week, the work isn't taxing yet which puts him at ease as he headed back to Minnesota for the weekend.

Michael helps with schoolwork and adjusting to living in a dorm; living with someone is always better than living alone in Adam's opinion, so thank God Michael is there and he's _likeable_. Over the week, Kevin and Mick had introduced him and Michael to another fashion student, Inias Garrison, who lives in 515 with Arthur Ketch. According to Inias, he's an insufferable bastard and also Mick's unfortunate on-and-off hook-up. Adam can't imagine how hellish his life would be if Arthur was his roommate.

He hasn't met Arthur in person yet and he intends to keep it that way for as long as possible, though being friends with Inias may make it difficult. Maybe if he insists that Inias come to his room instead of him going over to his, he'll delay the inevitable for longer.

Going home for the weekend is a relief. It’ll be nice to be around his family. He’s sure he’ll cut down on visits a lot after this one, like Michael.

Kate welcomes him back with a tight hug, a kiss to his cheek, and the apologetic news that John will be stuck at work at the auto shop that day. Some 1940 Ford for a transmission job. Adam doesn’t know much about cars but he knows transmissions are a bitch to do so he doesn’t have any hopes to see John on Sunday either.

“So how was your first week?” Kate asks, getting started on making burgers as Adam goes to feed the fishes in the living room. Getting fishes was John’s suggestion so Adam wouldn’t get a dog. Maybe it was for the better anyway, knowing he’d be living on his university’s campus and wouldn’t be around to care for the dog. Maybe after he graduates, he’ll get one.

A brief thought passes through Adam’s mind on if Michael would help him hide a dog in their dorm.

Michael has been sending him photos of New York; not of landmarks like the Statue of Liberty or grand landscapes like the skyline, but things like two drunk guys attempting to sing The Phantom of the Opera’s title track on the subway or someone using the back end of a FedEx truck as a bench. The photos are always ridiculous and Adam stifles a laugh at Michael’s latest one — a man whose busking business relies not on music but allowing people to scream at him for 25 cents.

Adam thinks Michael’s sending him these photos to make up for him never having been to the city which is generous of him to do.

Kate smiles, glancing at him from the stove. “Your friend?”

“Yeah, Michael lives in NYC, I think in Manhattan,” Adam says, typing back a response. “He’s sending me funny New York pictures.”

“That’s nice of him,” she says, bringing two burgers over to the table and handing one plate to Adam. “And the homework?”

“Light for now,” Adam assures, taking a bite out of the burger. “This is so good, Mom. I missed the best burgers on this planet.”

“As if you’ve had burgers from other planets,” she laughs. “Eat up, kid.”

**+**

New York City air just seems a bit stale once Michael’s breathed Wisconsin air for a week. Polluted, obviously, but regardless, it was still home and he was happy to be back, even just for two days. He’d decided to only come back on the first month and then it’ll just be whenever he feels like seeing the city again.

School seems fine so far. Between light workloads and Adam and him creating some kind of system where they can help each other out, Michael thinks that maybe he’s made his first real friend. Maybe one week is too soon to make any solid judgement but Michael’s never been wrong about someone. Adam seems like he’ll be around for a while and Michael likes that.

Michael takes pictures of funny things he sees on his way to his father’s place. He thought that maybe Adam would appreciate some photos of what New York is really like. He texts them to him, receiving enthusiastic replies consisting mainly of jokes and amazement. It’s entertaining and a little endearing.

Chuck has the interview scheduled at the same time Michael is coming home. It has to be intentional. Chuck hates being left alone with him and Michael knew Amara wouldn’t be free until Sunday to fill the silence between them. Of course, Chuck would pick some stranger to stand-in.

A part of Michael wishes that his father didn’t hate him so much.

He turns the key and unlocks the door, seeing Chuck pouring glasses of water and a dark-haired designer sitting on the couch. The man looks over at Michael, tilting his head slightly in confusion and watching as he puts his keys down on the counter. The designer has an affinity for staring too long but luckily enough, Michael’s just as well-versed in it. He stares back, completely unbothered, and Chuck introduces, “Cassiel, this is my son Michael. Michael, this is Cassiel Novak, he’s an up-and-coming designer and stylist.”

“ _Castiel_ ,” the designer corrects irritably, visibly resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He does stand and offer a more polite look as he shakes Michael’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Michael.” Michael gives him a practised smile.

Ignoring the correction, Chuck continues, “He just put out his first collection. Gaining traction quick, he’s a very gifted designer.” Though Michael is resentful about Chuck bragging about someone who isn’t even his son, he doesn’t outright show it, spare his smile getting increasingly strained with every word that leaves Chuck’s mouth. Castiel watches him with squinted eyes.

Castiel looks about 5 years older than Michael, more or less. He has dark hair like him, though styled differently, and his eyes are a chilling shade of blue. Michael himself has green eyes and looks absolutely nothing like his father. Maybe his likeness to his mother is why Chuck can’t look at him.

Either way, Michael can see why Amara said Castiel reminded her of him.

“I heard from Amara that you just started university,” Castiel says conversationally. “How was it?”

“Alright,” Michael says vaguely.

Before Michael can even try to elaborate on his answer, Chuck cuts over, “Let’s start the interview, shall we? Michael, if you don’t mind, can you go ahead to your room while we do this?”

 _I do mind_ , Michael thinks, but he obeys and goes to his room because he is a good son.

After a quick shower, Michael goes to his room, texting Adam since he didn’t have much to do for school. Still getting to know each other, their visits to home have steered their texting conversations in the direction of their hometowns. While Michael shares his experiences that truly encapsulate the heart of New York, Adam tells him about what makes Minnesota what it is, like countless statues of Paul Bunyan with a blue ox named Babe.

He’d never thought about it but Michael seriously considers visiting Minnesota just to see those statues for himself.

At some point, a single knock on his door tells him that he can come back out and Michael didn’t even realise that an hour and a half had just gone by. It felt like he’d only been texting Adam for ten minutes.

When he leaves his room, he sees Castiel finishing off his drink, some of Chuck’s old wine. Castiel notices him coming and puts the empty glass down, tipping his head to the balcony so they can talk without Chuck interrupting.

“What are you studying?” Castiel asks once they’re alone on the balcony. His voice is low like Michael’s too, it’s no wonder that Amara said they were similar.

“Medicine,” Michael answers.

Castiel nods, looking over Manhattan. “I’d think you would study fashion, given your father and aunt’s careers.”

“I thought about it but I like this path better,” Michael says.

“Understandable,” Castiel says. “Fashion is stressful for absolutely no reason. You’re better off in medicine.”

Not knowing why he felt like he had to, Michael says, “About my father calling you Cassiel... He can be --“

“Dense,” Castiel fills in deliberately. “After two hours with the man, believe me, I know.”

Michael huffs a quiet laugh. “Yes.” After a pause, he asks, “How old are you?”

“I’ll be 26 in September,” Castiel answers.

“You’re quite young.”

“That’s what made me so impressive to Chuck,” Castiel notes. He falls silent for a moment, just looking over Manhattan in thought, before he says, “I apologise for your father. I know I may be overstepping or assuming but I did not feel good about him bragging about me when you just returned from university.”

Michael wasn’t expecting an apology, especially not for something so trivial. “Thank you but it had nothing to do with you.”

Castiel nods slowly and sighs. “I should get going. I have a dinner to attend. Your father is taking a call so will you let him know I left?”

“Of course,” Michael assures. He says goodbye and locks the door behind Castiel, wondering about how even a stranger who saw them interact for a minute felt like apologising for Chuck’s actions, and then Chuck comes out of his room.

“Where’s Cassiel?”

“Castiel,” Michael corrects. “He had a dinner to go to so he left early.”

“Shame,” Chuck says. Realising that there’s nothing left to say on the subject of Castiel Novak now that he’s gone, Chuck asks, “How was school?”

Michael keeps it short. “It was fine.”

Chuck keeps it shorter. “Good.”

They don’t talk for the rest of the weekend, even when Amara comes to see him on Sunday until Chuck hands him a duffel bag of extra clothes he'd gotten from Castiel to bid him goodbye.

Castiel's clothes look good, Michael had to admit. He knows he'll be wearing these more often than some other clothes he has in his and Adam's closet. After years of seeing various fashion pieces from different brands and being raised by a fashion magazine writer and a supermodel, Michael can tell what works and what doesn't, so he can safely say that Castiel has a bright future ahead of him as a designer. He can already imagine him on red carpets.

He lets New York City fall behind him as he draws closer back to Wisconsin, glad that he won't be back for a while.

**+**

Needless to say, it's a relief to be back in at the university. John ultimately didn't show up all weekend and Adam heard from Michael that his weekend didn't go so hot either, so maybe returning to school is good for them both.

Unlocking the door to 522, Adam realises he's the first one there this time. Without Michael being around to block it, he can now clearly see the _Moulin Rouge_ poster on the wall next to his bed. It's been a couple of years since Adam had seen the movie, just the one time, so he doesn't remember much about it except that he thought it was good. Maybe he'll rewatch it some time so he and Michael can have something to talk about that isn't medical homework.

Other little things Adam has noticed about Michael over their first week of living together is that he has an angel pen holder which means he's either interested in the supernatural, likes pretty ornaments or is religious. He also has only five books with him, all thick classic books and worn-out book spines, which should speak for itself. 

His laptop has an unsightly patch of sticker residue. It looks almost as if he'd tried but gave up on removing it. Maybe if Adam finds him a nice enough sticker, he'll cover it up. It's an _eyesore_.

The doorknob turns and Michael comes in with the bag he'd brought with him plus an extra one that he explains away as, "Clothes from the designer that got interviewed."

"Can I see?"

"Sure," Michael says, dropping the bag on his bed as he shrugs off his Louis Vuitton jacket. Adam unzips the bag and pulls out each article of clothing, making comments about how the designs are thoughtful, unlike some brands that slap their logo on a plain T-shirt and call it a day. Michael agrees wholeheartedly, and then Kevin and Mick barrel into their room to welcome them back.

Kevin gapes at the clothes laid out on Michael's bed. "Oh my God, are those from Castiel Novak?"

"Yes," Michael affirms. Turns out Castiel really is more well-known than he thought.

Kevin barely stops himself from jumping up in excitement, moving closer to get a better look. "I love his work! I've been following his designs since he released a collection at that boutique. I think he's on his way to starting a label. Inias and I really want to work for him. His clothes are just really intricate, you just know he designs with the wearer in mind."

"Someone's a fanboy," Mick jokes. "They do look quite nice, though. How did you get these? I don't believe I've seen them on the market yet."

"I met him last Saturday," Michael provides. This just sends Kevin into an even bigger bout of excitement, having Michael field all his questions about 'what's Castiel like in real life?' and 'did he show you some other designs?' and 'is he hiring yet?'.

After Kevin and Mick go back to their room to get ready for their first lecture of the day, Adam bursts out laughing. "Kevin really likes that guy."

"Ridiculous," Michael says with a faux disapproving voice. He asks, "You said your father didn't see you off, right? That sucks."

"Nah, it's cool. He's not really around most of the time anyway," Adam says, waving dismissively. "How was your weekend? You didn't say much when we texted."

Adam gets up to pick out a jacket from their closet to wear to class as Michael goes to his desk to pick out what he's bringing along. Michael answers vaguely, "It was alright." The exact same answer he'd given to Castiel when asked how school went, but this time it was a complete lie.

Adam nods, smiling obliviously. "Maybe they weren't the best, but at least our weekends weren't crap. Come on, we should get to class."


	2. Cough Syrup

_serious side effects of cough syrup include a quickened heartbeat and mood changes._

Adam wakes up to the quiet sound of Steppenwolf playing in the dorm room. It takes him back to when John would play old rock songs for him as a young child and while he still did so, he didn't much care about whether Adam would like the music or not anymore.

He yawns tiredly, stretching as he sits up in bed, his duvet a tangled mess in his legs. He peers down from the top bunk to see that Michael is halfway dressed in jeans, looking at two different shirts — Alexander Wang and some other brand that Adam is not confident enough to attempt pronouncing. His eyes skate over Michael's toned back for a second before one of the shirts go over his body.

Michael picks out a black leather jacket to wear, looking over himself in the mirror until his eyes find Adam's in the reflection. Adam quickly averts his gaze and Michael turns to him, greeting, "Good morning. I hope the music didn't wake you up. We still have about an hour to get to class, I thought that maybe you would like to sleep in longer."

"You kidding me? Waking up to Steppenwolf's great," Adam says, miming turning the volume knob on a radio. Michael nods and ups the loudness and now it's clearer that the song is _Don't Step On The Grass, Sam_. "Why are you up so early?"

"Inias needed help carrying a tailor's mannequin to his room," Michael answers. He runs a hand through his black hair and Adam quickly gets out of bed before he stares too long.

"They have projects already?" Adam asks, feet touching the cold floor.

Michael shrugs. "He wants to be prepared."

Adam ducks into the bathroom to wash up and have his morning shower. The good thing about living with Michael is that he gets up earlier than Adam does and is really fast in the bathroom so Adam doesn't have to worry about rushing a shower. By the time he gets out of the bathroom, Michael's already left for class.

For the first day of classes, Adam and Michael had gone together purely out of awkwardness among new roommates where both are hesitant to make a bad first impression by leaving before the other. After establishing that they were both perfectly alright with not leaving for a class together, Michael started leaving their dorm at least ten minutes before Adam does. He'd be hurt if he wasn't okay with it too. Honestly, he gets it. It's still a new friendship and Adam's probably closer to Kevin from 521 anyway.

Adam gets dressed in a distressed AC/DC shirt that John got him for one of his previous birthdays and dark blue jeans, deciding that the outfit is presentable enough for a lecture that takes place before lunch. Thank God they only had one 10 AM class throughout the week. The rest were after lunch which Adam had been more than relieved to see.

The good thing about living on campus is it only takes about five to ten minutes to get to class. He's basically in Heaven; as much as he can be in university, anyway.

He's not the last few to enter the lecture hall, luckily enough, and he secures an empty seat around the middle row. A girl sits next to him just as Adam spots Michael a few rows down, engrossed on whatever's on his laptop. Michael glances at the boy on his left, mouth moving in conversation but words lost to noise.

"I thought I was going to be late!" the girl says, putting her dog-themed tote bag on the table. She turns to Adam and grins, friendly, introducing, "My name is Amelia. You?"

"Adam," he returns with a smile of his own. "You're not late, that's a win."

"Sure is," Amelia replies, taking her laptop out of her tote as Adam leans forward slightly to look at Michael again. He's still talking to the guy and now he's _laughing_ , dipping his head to hide his grin.

Amelia narrows her eyes at him and looks around the hall to find who Adam was looking at. “Oh, he’s cute.”

Adam coughs self-consciously, now realising that he’s staring too obviously. “I’m just looking around.” He retracts back into his seat, clearing his throat, embarrassed.

Amelia chuckles but instantly straightens up when the professor walks in, introducing himself — Asmodeus. She says, casual with a point, "Oh, I'm _looking_ too."

Changing the topic, Adam jokes, "Asmodeus kinda looks like Colonel Sanders."

Amelia laughs again but drops it, opening her laptop to take notes as Asmodeus starts the lecture. Adam types key points into his laptop, cursing under his breath when he catches his eyes searching for Michael.

**+**

After the lecture ends, Adam heads straight to the university’s cafeteria to meet Kevin. Michael had left the room before Adam can even think about asking him to join him and Kevin anyway, so Adam figures that he'll either try next time or maybe not. Michael and Kevin aren't that close yet.

He’d bought a burger while waiting and was halfway through it by the time Kevin shows up with his bag and a waffle with one bite taken out of it. Kevin greets happily, "Hey, man."

"Someone's getting busy, holy shit." Adam pulls a horrified expression as he stares at Kevin's bag. There's his laptop, sketchbooks, fabric samples and other things that Adam can't see. "What is going on in fashion class?"

"You think this is bad? I'm barely three weeks in. This is just a taste of what my life's gonna be like after I graduate," Kevin says, rolling his eyes. "Come on, can we go to the library already? I wanna put my bag down."

They finish their food on the way to the library, finding an empty table. Instantly, Adam regrets not bringing a jacket or hoodie because it's _freezing_ in there. Kevin has the right idea — he has a grey jacket on, already taking his sketchbook and laptop out and laying them on the table. As Adam gets his own notes and laptop out, he says, "I have a problem."

Kevin raises an eyebrow in intrigue. "Already? What is it?"

"I have a hot roommate," Adam blurts out and Kevin chokes on air.

"Dude, seriously?" Kevin asks, his quiet coughs turning into laughter. "I think Mick or Inias would be better confidants for you about this than a straight guy." Adam gives Kevin a flat look and Kevin just chuckles again, amending his response, "Weren't you good for like two weeks? What could be so great about Michael?"

Adam scoffs. "You have not seen him shirtless."

"I haven't seen him, _period_ ," Kevin corrects, opening his laptop and logging in. "I only met him that one time, and then he just awkwardly brushes past me in the hallway. I don't even remember what he looks like."

"You're exaggerating," Adam mutters.

"All I remember is that he has a tall, dark and handsome vibe," Kevin says loosely. "Maybe if you asked him here, it'd jog my memory."

Adam rolls his eyes but then, maybe Kevin has a good idea.

**+**

Michael finishes off his instant ramen and pushes the empty cup aside, returning his full attention to his laptop. The teacher had issued a paper that they had about three months to work on and he wanted to get started as early as possible. The sooner he finished, the better. The only thing he hated was that it had to be handwritten. At least research didn't need to be written down.

As soon as he hits 'play' on This Man He Weeps Tonight by The Kinks, his phone rings and he presses his lips together in mild annoyance, turning down the volume on his laptop's speakers. He reads the caller ID — Adam Milligan.

"Hello?" Michael says, holding his phone up to his ear.

" _Hey, Michael. Sorry for this_ ," Adam apologises, not sounding very sorry at all. " _I'm at the library and it's super cold. Can you bring a hoodie or jacket or something?_ " A brief thought runs through his mind on why couldn't Adam just come get it himself, then Adam says sheepishly, " _I'm waiting for Kevin but he's not here yet and I really don't wanna pack up everything or leave it here._ "

Michael sighs quietly, though he's half-certain that Adam can hear him from the other end. "Alright. I'll be there in ten minutes. Any particular jacket you want or deliverer's choice?"

" _The red hoodie_ ," Adam requests.

Michael grabs the red hoodie from their closet, mumbling into his phone’s receiver, “I have it. I’ll be going to the library now.” Adam says something about how cold it is in the university’s library and how grateful he is, and Michael tunes out as he opens the door to see an unfamiliar brunet come out of Mick and Kevin’s dorm.

The guy looks at him blankly, closing up the top button of his shirt before retreating down the hallway to Inias’s room.

That must be the infamous Arthur.

Michael figures that Adam can wait for a few more minutes for the jacket so he steps into Mick's room to see him lying shirtless on his bed. He frowns. "Mick."

Mick looks up and rolls his eyes. "Hello, Michael. What do you want?"

"What are you doing with that guy?" Michael questions. Though he hasn't known Arthur or Mick for long, he still heard enough from Adam, Kevin and Inias to know that Arthur is not good enough for Mick.

"I know, I know," Mick grumbles, sitting up to pull a shirt on. "He has a girlfriend, but—"

"He has a girlfriend?" Michael says, appalled.

Mick pauses like a deer caught in headlights. "You did not know that. Okay. Look, I know he's an asshole. Believe me, I know. But he didn't use to be such a douchebag. And it's not that easy to just move on, Michael. If you ever felt anything for anyone, you would know what I mean."

He doesn't know what Mick means. Even with past boyfriends, he didn't know, which means he probably doesn't get to say anything.

Mick stares at him. "Michael?"

"I shouldn't be judging," Michael suddenly says, remembering the hoodie in his arms. Before Mick can say anything else, Michael leaves the room to go find Adam and give him the hoodie.

Perhaps Mick has a point; he can't presume to know more about this kind of thing if he didn't even have any experience, to begin with. He's never been loved, never been in love, so how can he expect to understand?

**+**

About six minutes after the call, Michael reaches the library, red hoodie in his hands. Adam spots him and waves so Michael will come over. Ungracefully, Michael greets, "Hello, Adam. Kevin." He definitely feels displaced with Kevin there. 

"Thanks for bringing it for me," Adam says, smiling gratefully up at him as he claims his hoodie from Michael.

Michael nods stiffly. "It's alright."

"Hey, you wanna stay awhile?" Kevin invites. Adam doesn't miss Kevin's eyes subtly sweeping up and down Michael's body. He barely holds back an amused laugh.

"No, I left all my notes in the room," Michael rejects. After a beat, he says, "If there isn't anything else, I'll be going."

"Yeah, sure. Sorry again," Adam says. Michael lifts a hand in dismissal and farewell before he leaves (or maybe 'escapes' is a more suitable word). Once he's out of the library, Adam asks, "So?"

Kevin admits reluctantly, " _So_ you have a point." He holds up a finger before Adam can laugh in his face and adds, "But he's your roommate. As far as I know, getting involved with a roommate is never a good idea."

Adam furrows his eyebrows, dubious. "Name one time it wasn't a good idea."

After a second of thought, Kevin snaps his fingers and names, "Joey and Chandler."

"Dude, Joey and Chandler never dated," Adam corrects.

"Damn, they should have been," Kevin grunts, annoyed at the false example. He tries again, "Okay, what about Ted and Robin?"

Adam sighs, giving Kevin an injured look. "You're encouraging."

"I thought you said you liked people too easily," Kevin points out.

It's true, Adam catches feelings far too readily for his liking. It results in numerous heartbreaks and a steady deterioration in the trust he puts in other people over the years. Logically, he knows Kevin has a point about a crush on a roommate not working out well. In his mind, he knows Kevin is right. Yet, he keeps coming up with excuses like he always does. He's hot so he's gotta be different from the previous guys, right? He must be!

"Just looking out for you, Adam," Kevin says, flipping to a fresh page in his sketchbook.

"Yeah," Adam mumbles. "You're right. This is a disaster waiting to happen. I'll be over it by tomorrow."

"Adam!" Amelia whispers pleasantly, stopping at his and Kevin's table. "I thought you looked familiar."

"Oh, hey," Adam greets, turning to Kevin. "Amelia, this is Kevin. Kevin, Amelia." She makes a gesture as if asking if she can sit with them and Adam makes room for her to sit by him.

"I saw the guy leave just now," Amelia says, nodding towards the library entrance. "Is that your boyfriend?"

"He wishes," Kevin mutters, clicking his pen to begin sketching a design. Adam nudges him from across the table to shut up.

**+**

Adam isn't over it by tomorrow which probably shouldn't have been as big of a surprise as he tried to play it off as. He gets up and happily greets him good morning, awaiting Michael's half-hearted 'Good morning, Adam'.

He's still shirtless, which has Adam wondering how he missed the fact that Michael sleeps shirtless for the past almost-three weeks. Would have been helpful to know that.

"Not dressed yet?" Adam asks, climbing down from the top bunk.

Michael shrugs, glancing up from his phone screen to watch Adam move across the room. Unlike Michael, Adam sleeps with hilarious polka-dotted shorts and an ugly oversized shirt. A part of him is a little embarrassed about it after realising how many high-end clothes his roommate is packing, but the shame dissipated over time. Now realising that Michael sleeps shirtless, it's completely gone. Michael says, "Class is at 3. If I don't need to get dressed then I won't."

Adam nods in agreement. "I get that." Considering the idea, he invites, "Do you want to get lunch with Kevin and me before class?"

Michael pauses — Adam thinks, with the Moulin Rouge poster and with his generally closed-off personality, that Michael has no idea how to make friends. He was uncomfortable when he met Kevin and Mick the first time and subsequently, Adam has noticed that he rarely talks to anyone. Sure, he did talk to that one guy during the lecture yesterday, but probably nothing came out of that.

Maybe Michael is a little bit like Adam, maybe he doesn't give away his trust that simply either. He can tell you have to earn Michael's closeness.

"Alright," Michael accepts. "Thank you."

"We're roommates. Of course," Adam says, trying to make sure the gesture is seen as casual, perhaps in the hopes that it will eventually help Michael grow more comfortable with hanging out with people.

Adam goes to the bathroom after that to shower, coming back out attired in a plain black shirt, a denim jacket and jeans. Michael had gotten dressed while he was gone, donning a black bomber jacket over a plain maroon shirt and ripped black jeans. He asks, "Is the jacket branded?"

"Givenchy," Michael answers, putting his phone in his jeans' back pocket. "If you're ready, should we go?"

Adam shoots Kevin a text to tell him to meet them at the cafeteria and that if Mick wants to, he can join, before he nods. "Yup. Let's go."

They emerge from the room, Adam locks the door behind them, and then Michael tugs his arm to pull him away. Michael clumsily ducks behind a wall and Adam follows, chuckling. “Michael, what the hell are you doing?”

“I slept with him two years ago,” Michael whispers for context, peering past the wall to see his ex disappear through a dorm room door.

Adam’s eyes widen and he barely stops himself from laughing out loud, appearing from behind the wall as soon as the boy is out of sight. He spins around to look at Michael, amused beyond words. “ _He’s_ your ex?”

“I’d rather forget,” Michael grumbles, grabbing Adam by the arm to move them out of the dorms as Adam giggles — _giggles!_ — and says, “He was a nightmare.”

"Why, what'd he do?" Adam asks, letting Michael pull him down the corridor to the dorm building's exit.

Michael answers briskly, "Refused to move on."

Adam has no idea what to make of that.

**+**

Adam has little to no confidence in himself.

Sure, he studies hard and yields adequate grades. He thinks he's pretty good-looking—at least, he likes what he sees in the mirror enough. He's fairly independent. He's just not that assured about love. 

He's used to disappointment by now. No ex-boyfriend lasts long enough to prove that he was right to trust them and over time, it'd taken a blow to his self-belief. He thought it probable that the problem wasn't with his partners, but with him. Perhaps he was just unlikeable, that nobody could stand him for longer than a few months.

Yet, even with that, he liked people too easily. His mom says it's good that he warms up to people so quickly because he makes friends faster than anyone she knew. He's not so certain about it being a good thing.

A part of Adam thinks he should be more like Michael; a little more closed off, a little less trusting, a little more self-sufficient. Adam wishes he didn't crave affection so much. He admires Michael in how he seems like he doesn't need anyone. In the past month, he's barely seen Michael call his family or go study with friends. He's usually either in a lecture hall for classes or in their dorm to do assignments. He didn't need anyone.

Yet, no matter how good it sounds, Michael seems a bit lonely.

Adam is not that good at reading people. On the off chance that he's right, however, he does try his best to include Michael. Inviting him to lunch with him and Kevin was an attempt. Recently, Adam has welcomed Kevin to come study in his dorm with him. Michael made no complaints and actually allowed Kevin to browse his branded half of their closet.

Slowly but surely, Adam can feel Michael coming out of his shell. Just today after class, once they'd returned to their dorm, Michael says, "I saw Arthur a while back."

"What did he do?" Adam asks, dramatically rolling his eyes to make Michael laugh. It wasn't complete pretence, though; Adam, Kevin and Inias— _especially_ Inias—hated the guy. He's a pretentious douchebag and it was obvious to everyone except Mick that he was just using Mick.

"Nothing. He just came out of Mick's room and left once he saw me," Michael answers, taking off his jacket and putting it on a hanger, returning it to the closet. "I asked Mick about it but I think we both know how that would turn out."

"God, I hate that asshole," Adam grumbles. "And he has a girlfriend already. Why can't he leave Mick alone?"

"How did a guy like him even get a girlfriend?" Michael asks, sounding so genuine that Adam can't help but burst out laughing. 

"I don't know! Must be a miracle."

"Who is his girlfriend?" Michael asks. Adam knows he doesn't care that much about gossip, which means that he's asking for the sake of talking to him. It makes him happy; he and Michael are truly becoming friends.

Adam thinks back to the time Mick brought her up in conversation. "Toni from theatre, I think."

Michael frowns thoughtfully, reaching into his memories for something he recalled seeing. "I thought she had a girlfriend."

Adam looks up, mouth falling open in surprise. "Holy shit. Michael, are you _gossiping_?"

"Gossiping— _No_ , I—" Michael's face flushes. "I don't do that."

"You're cute," Adam says mindlessly, turning away as soon as he realises what he's said. He doesn't see Michael's reaction. Adam thinks that he preferred not to.

**+**

Michael gets a copy of Heaven magazine that week because that's the one with Castiel's article.

Despite not talking that long, Michael does feel a kind of solace with Castiel with how similar he feels beyond their appearances. Castiel gave Michael the impression that he was struggling, barely keeping his head above the water. It feels like he hides behind brand labels and false pretences and sometimes, Michael felt the same.

Above all else, Michael can see that, like him, Castiel doesn't have the first idea about handling emotions either. After meeting him the first time, Michael had looked him up online and realised how terribly clumsy he is in interacting with other people. He snapped at the few paparazzi that have begun following him and he closed off if interview questions got too personal. Clearly, he had a lot of anger in him.

In Chuck's interview, he's stuck to the general topic of his work, how he came to be in the fashion industry and his inspirations, including some photographs taken at Heaven's studio. It's not a bad interview which has Michael relieved — Chuck isn't known to be an extraordinary interviewer. There are some that go out of their way to ensure that the interviewees were comfortable and didn't feel like their privacy was being invaded. Chuck is not them.

A segment from it stands out to Michael as he reads the interview:

> **Shurley:** What inspires you? The way Vera Wang's 2014 Fall collection was inspired by girl spirit, what are your designs inspired by?  
>  **Novak:** The past. Unpredictability. Time slipping through your fingers and staying still. The harsh realities balanced by tender daydreams.  
>  **Shurley:** 'Harsh realities and tender daydreams', huh? What do you mean by that? Do you feel love, grief, about these — is that what you draw the inspiration from? What does it mean?  
>  **Novak:** Nothing.

_Nothing_. The harsh reality with tender daydreams—nothing.

Because he didn't feel anything and neither did Michael.


	3. Syndrome

**syndrome**  
 _noun  
_ a group of signs that occur together and characterise a particular condition.

Back in Minnesota, in the small city of Windom, Adam’s life was generally the same humdrum daily. He’d wake up, go to school, come home to a warm meal and, if he has any luck, he’ll catch a glimpse of his father before he disappears for countless hours to repair someone else’s car. Sometimes, he’ll go to the arcade with friends, maybe play some basketball if he has time, and the handful of times he and a cute boy snuck off to make out under the bleachers like a teenage rom-com movie.

Wisconsin is different from that. For one, he has a roommate now, one that’s not only attractive as hell but also admirably under perfect control of his life. When he exits, he doesn’t see a front yard and the neighbour waving hello as they mow the lawn across the road. Instead, he sees Mick half-dressed at his door at 5 in the morning, frantically asking for a bandaid as Kevin stands behind him, shaking with a sewing needle through a bleeding finger. There are no arcades to escape to and Adam doesn’t know anyone with a basketball here. Finding cute boys to make out with isn’t so easy anymore, especially not if this crush on his roommate doesn’t go away.

Despite all the change, he gets used to it.

February is a welcome time for Adam, considering that since it’s now well into the second month of school, he’s finally fully accustomed to his life at Wisconsin University. He keeps to the same company and his days are mostly the same. Wake up, talk to Michael for a bit in the morning, get lunch with Kevin (occasionally with Michael, Amelia and/or Mick), go to class and then either work on his assignments at the library or the dorm. He’s settled into a steady little routine at school.

Today, however, is different. Normally, when Adam oversleeps and gets up ten minutes before the lecture starts, he is presented with an empty room where Michael’s bag is gone. This time, he sees that Michael is there. Fully dressed and things packed, but there.

“What are you still doing here?” Adam asks, blinking sleep out of his eyes and forcing himself to move, climb down the bunk ladder.

Michael glances up from his phone, realising that Adam has awoken, and simply says, “Waiting for you. Come on, we have class.”

Adam has no idea why Michael had waited for him. As he washes up and gets dressed, he racks his brain for any recollection of if they agreed to go to class together this afternoon but nothing surfaces. He pulls on a shirt with a print of the Millenium Falcon on it and wears a black bomber jacket on top of it. He doesn’t remember packing this but his mom has the habit of secretly packing things for him. Maybe this jacket is it. Michael did help him hang some of his clothes up in the closet.

He comes out of the bathroom and asks, “Why did you wait for me?”

“Did you want me to leave without you?” Michael asks, looking genuinely blank.

“Well, _no_ , but it’s not like it’s something you don’t usually do,” Adam says, his statement sounding more like a question.

Michael nods and then does a double-take, narrowing his eyes at Adam’s outfit in recognition. “That’s my jacket. Amara gave me that after her YSL photoshoot.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry,” Adam apologises, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders.

“You can wear it if you want,” Michael quickly says before the jacket is completely off. “We really need to get to class anyway.”

Michael breezes past Adam to leave the dorm and Adam realises that the jacket smells like Michael—fire buried under unrelenting snow, or forgiving rain in the morning. Michael smells like melancholy, and a brief thought enters Adam’s mind that Michael might not have his life perfectly in control after all. Perhaps he’s just wearing a mask like everybody else.

He wonders how long it will be before it’s clear that it’s okay for Michael to take that mask off in front of Adam.

**+**

It is the first time that Michael and Adam sit together in the lecture hall, surprisingly enough.

Even when they went to their first few classes together, they always ended up apart. On top of that, with Michael leaving earlier than Adam, of course, they never get empty seats next to the other. Now, they manage to find two empty seats, side by side, in the row behind Amelia’s.

Adam knows he wants to sit with Michael at least once. With a possible tiny crush that’s slowly building up and then with wearing Michael’s jacket like he’s his boyfriend or something, Adam wants to sit with him. The problem is that he has no idea if Michael wants the same so he does what any sane person does.

Adam asks, “Do you want to sit with me?”

Michael frowns, already moving towards the seats. “I thought it was decided. Yes.”

Adam trails behind, uncertain about Michael’s change of behaviour. Michael doesn’t do stuff like that, initiate things. He lets other people take the reins on the social side of a situation. Sure, the guy can unquestionably market himself as a charming person if he wants to, but he kept to himself most times. Adam’s sure that normally, Adam would be the one telling Michael that it was decided that they would sit together in class. Yet, here they are.

“When did we decide any of this?” Adam asks before he can think of a less-oppositional way to deliver the question.

Michael sits down and puts his bag on the table as Adam sits by him. Michael says, disconcerted, “I’m trying to be your friend.”

Adam gives him the most pleasant smile he can and assures, “Come on, Michael. You don’t have to try, you’ve always been my friend. I guess I’m just wondering why now.”

Both of them open their laptops to start taking down notes for the lecture and Michael whispers so he doesn’t disrupt anyone, “I thought it was time for me to try doing things differently.”

 _Differently?_ Adam questions how Michael has been making friends in the past if this is different for him. He faintly recalls hearing Michael mention in passing about not having many friends, proven more true by the number of lone days he spends in the dorm. He tears off a corner of his notebook and writes with a blue pen: _You’re doing great :)_

He slides it over to Michael as he listens to Professor Gordon Walker explain the different components of a human heart and what each one does. From the corner of his eyes, he watches Michael read the three words before flipping the paper to its other side, writing on it before slipping it back to Adam.

In black ink, it reads: _You were a good teacher._

Then Adam realises it—Michael took so long to make a serious effort to be an actual friend to Adam because he’s been learning from him. Watching the way he and Kevin became closer friends by sharing hilarious gossip about other students so he attempted to talk to him about Arthur that day. How Adam had lunch with his other friends so Michael started agreeing to come along when Adam invites him to lunch. Michael’s apparently been treating Adam like the paradigm of befriending people.

Adam grins and mouths to Michael, ‘That’s really cute.’ It earns him a silent chuckle from Michael that has Adam feeling lighter than air.

“The heart has four chambers, two upper atria, the receiving chambers, and two lower ventricles, the discharging chambers,” Gordon says monotonously, writing on the board. Michael is busy typing it into his laptop, nodding along. Adam scribbles it down and then tears off a whole sheet of paper, folding it in half and tearing it so it’s now smaller. He writes: _I did not think this jacket was going to be so comfortable._

He slides it to Michael before the possibility of Michael not being the type of student to enjoy passing notes belatedly comes to him when it’s too late to take the note back. He prays he hasn’t embarrassed himself or annoyed Michael when Michael unfolds the paper to read the latest note. Michael raises an eyebrow, looking Adam up and down once, quickly typing more notes into his word document before clicking his pen.

The note comes back a few seconds later: _If you like it, it’s yours._

Adam’s eyes widen and he murmurs, “Really?”

Michael smiles slightly. “Really.” He sweeps a hand over his own jacket and shakes his head, trying to imply that he doesn’t wear that one very often. Adam huddles in the jacket a little more, and now he smells a hint of cologne in the jacket one size bigger than him. He makes a show of sniffing it and dramatically frowning at Michael who chuckles quietly, whispering, “Hugo Boss.”

“The ventricles are separated from each other by the interventricular septum, visible on the surface of the heart as the anterior longitudinal sulcus and the posterior interventricular sulcus,” Gordon continues and Adam quickly continues noting it down, missing Michael smiling fondly at him.

**+**

The truth is, Michael hardly paid attention in the class. After leaving the lecture hall, he’d sent Amelia a text asking her if she could photocopy her notes from that class.

He’d been too distracted by Adam and how he looks in his YSL jacket and the stupid way the eyes of his smiley faces are circles instead of regular dots. They should look creepy but he has somehow successfully made the horrific smileys... cute. It's a miracle.

Inias holds up his sketchbook against Michael, who's standing next to the bunk beds to scroll through his texts. Amara is telling him about a brand that got started last year, Crossroads, headed by a British designer called Bela Talbot. Perhaps Chuck was too disinterested or there's just no sense in repeating information to someone who already knows about the subject, though Michael wonders why Amara thinks that he would be interested. He's studying _medicine_.

"Mick, what do you think?" Inias asks.

Mick shifts to look between Inias's sketch and Michael. "Perhaps you should switch out that royal blue with cobalt... No, no, with persian."

Inias nods slowly, holding up two different shades of blue colour pencils up to Michael. "I think you have a point."

Michael frowns and turns to them, deciding that he'll answer Amara's texts later. "Why do you make your clothes to my size anyway?"

"You have an average build, it's perfect for general sizing," Inias defends, noting down what Mick suggested. Michael sits on the lower bunk which he has learned is Mick's, closing the laptop and lying down. Sure, he has to do more research for the graded paper Asmodeus tasked them to do but he's too troubled by a certain blonde roommate.

Mick eyes him with silent questions before finally voicing one, "What's on your mind?"

"Must be Adam," Inias mumbles, starting on a second draft.

Michael instantly sits up and narrows his eyes at Inias. "No."

"Ooh, instant denial. Must be it," Mick agrees and Michael just gives him a flat look. "Relax, we're kidding."

"Where is the Little Prince anyway?" Inias asks.

"Little Prince?" Michael echoes, questioning.

"What? He's blonde too," Inias replies.

Michael exhales lightly and answers, "He's studying with his other friends. I believe Amelia, Kevin and his girlfriend."

"I thought you'd go along," Mick says.

"He said they'd be too disruptive and I wouldn't get any work done," Michael repeats Adam's explanation back to them.

Mick makes a show of looking at Michael lying on his bed and then at his closed laptop before saying, "It's not like you're very productive here either."

"If you weren't gonna work on your paper anyway then why didn't you just go?" Inias asks, putting his pencil down to get one of different thickness. "It's obvious you don't want to be here."

Michael sits up again, protesting, "That's not true."

Inias remedies, "No, I know, I mean it in the way that you'd rather be hanging out with Adam than with two fashion students talking about what shade of blue the sleeve should be. You'd have more fun with him, face it."

Facing it means dealing with things Michael knows absolutely nothing about, so of course, he's delayed it until now. While Michael has no experience in the emotional department, he's certainly not oblivious to attraction and Adam is undeniably handsome. Of course, endearingly delightful on top of that. It's hard to say no to that face, which is how Michael ends up socialising when he doesn't want to purely because Adam asks with such pure enthusiasm that Michael finds it difficult to deny him anything.

"Looks like you've made him speechless," Mick jokes, going back to his sketchbook to flip to a fresh page. "So what's going on with you two anyway?"

" _Nothing_ ," Michael insists.

"You two have chemistry, we can all see it!" Inias points out. "Just saying, if you admitted you wanted to ask him out, nobody would be surprised."

Michael says firmly, "I am _not_ asking him out."

" _Fine_ ," Inias mumbles. "Oh, Arthur and Toni broke up."

Mick raises his head in interest. "Did she find out about..."

"No, she has no idea about you," Inias assures. "She found out she was a lesbian so they broke up. On good terms." The last addition of them it being an amicable breakup has Mick sighing. Inias says, "I don't know why you bother. You can score someone better than Arthur."

As Inias and Mick launch into a discussion about Arthur, Michael tunes out and goes back to his phone to see a string of texts from Amara, starting with more texts about Bela Talbot to a funny makeup artist with a lot of candy to offer, ending with her asking him to come back to New York City on the weekend because she missed him after three months apart.

 **[March 5, 2010, 7:37 PM]  
Amara Shurley:** You will love Bela! Maybe she'll be open to being set up with you if you're interested. She's very beautiful and intelligent.  
 **Amara Shurley:** And the makeup artist...  
 **Amara Shurley:** He gives out a lot of candy for someone whose career is in makeup and not candy.  
 **Amara Shurley:** I wish you could meet them. I think they'd like you and vice versa.  
 **Amara Shurley:** I have an idea! Why don't you come back this weekend? I miss seeing you, kiddo.

 **[March 5, 2010, 7:42 PM]  
Michael Shurley:** Okay, I'll come back on Saturday.

He agrees to go back, no heart to say that he’s not exactly excited about any possibilities of seeing Chuck after their less-than-favourable January meeting. Despite that, he did miss his aunt and the grand city of New York, all its little misgivings and imperfections. He can’t deny that he loves Manhattan.

If he wants to get to NYC by Saturday morning then he should get on a flight at some point tonight. He gives the other two boys an apologetic look, saying, "I have to go."

"Geez, if you want to get your loverboy, you can just tell us," Mick says before Michael flips him off.

**+**

"Over here," Amelia calls out, waving so that Adam can spot her and Kevin from across the café. The school, as it turns out, has a café. Adam hadn't realised it was there until Amelia said she and her roommate found it on the opposite side of campus. It's operated by students, mostly those in the food business and some who want to earn an extra buck.

"Hey," Adam greets, putting his laptop and notebook down on the desk as he slides into the booth on Amelia's side. There's a girl next to Kevin who he's never met before but he has a feeling on who she is. "Channing, right?"

Channing Ngo grins politely, nodding. "Yeah, that's me." Kevin has a girlfriend, something Adam had been surprised to hear. She was studying economics if Adam recalled correctly. Since he hadn't met her prior to now, Adam only knew a handful of things about her—1) She's dating Kevin, 2) She's an economics student, 3) She has a dry sense of humour and 4) She has a very different life plan from Kevin's, something he'd complained about on at least two separate occasions.

"Why were you so late?" Kevin asks, already seemingly halfway through what looks like his fifth sketch.

"Dude, we agreed to meet at 5. It's 5:06," Adam says, rolling his eyes at Kevin's dramatics. "And if you have to know, I dropped off my bag in the dorm before coming here."

Amelia perks up with an enthusiastic grin, leaning forward on the table by her elbows. "Didn't invite Michael? He's always welcome." She says Michael with a suggestive tone and Adam resists the urge to roll his eyes again.

"I didn't invite him this time because he has work to do and I know you guys will just distract him," Adam says, typing in the password on his laptop.

"I think you do plenty of distracting on your own," Kevin teases. Channing asks him something quietly and Kevin whispers an answer into her ear, probably explaining who Michael is. She ends up with a funny smile of her own.

" _Stop_ ," Adam drags the syllable out. "There is nothing between us."

Kevin scoffs, grabbing a colour pencil from a box. "If Michael proposed to you today, you'd be on your honeymoon by tomorrow."

"Do your damn homework." Adam hopes his face isn't as red as it feels.

Adam hates the way he likes people way too easily. It never ends well, especially not with emotionally vacant roommates. Not like Adam has any experience in that area of partner but he just knows it's going to be awful. Michael clearly does not feel the same and it's too much to ask to have his feelings be returned by someone who obviously has never fallen in love before. Maybe if Adam didn't watch so many rom-coms with his mother growing up, he wouldn't have become this hopeless romantic.

Yet, that same part of him that's a hopeless romantic is telling him that despite all signs, this road is heading somewhere grand. Perhaps he was just too close to the ground to see the destination.

**+**

Michael tosses a Burberry shirt into his bag and grabs two pairs of jeans, debating in his mind which one to bring to New York. He ultimately settles for one with rips in the knees and then picks out a maroon leather jacket.

Right then, Adam comes into the dorm with his musical laughter, saying, “Dude, you won’t believe what happened with Kevin and that Andy Gallagher kid, they had this amazing thing happen where Kevin tossed his pencil and it landed right in Andy's coffee. I swear, it was so fucking _funny_.“ He stops himself, looking at Michael’s half-packed bag. “Wait, where are you going?’

“Home,” Michael answers. “My aunt asked me to come back to New York.”

Adam hesitates for a moment, contemplating Michael's packed belongings before requesting, abashed, “If you’re going to New York, can I come along?”

 _Oh, right. Adam’s never been to New York._ Michael flashes him a smile. “Of course. I’m leaving later at 5 in the morning so I can be there by 9. I’m sure you can pack by then. We’ll be on our way back by Sunday afternoon.”

Adam grins, excited, and gets a bag from the closet. “Thank you. Shit, I’m going to _New York_.”

“You’ll get to see the fancier side of it too,” Michael points out, taking one of his favourite jackets and putting it in the bag. “Amara likes to go shopping between her photoshoots and she usually brings me along. She likes spoiling people. If she lets you come with us, you’ll probably get some new clothes and meet some celebrity designers.” He pauses and adds, “Which I now realise would be a more enticing offer to Kevin, Mick and Inias, but I stand by it.”

“You kidding? This is _awesome_ ,” Adam says happily. Michael decides that a delighted Adam is one of his favourite things in the world. It was just so pleasant to see someone as nice as Adam be so elated at something this simple.

The short flight to New York mostly consists of Adam insisting they play a plane version of Zitch Dog where instead of dogs, they spot flight attendants. Because of the mouthful that is 'Zitch Flight Attendant', Adam shortens it to 'Zitch Pilot', despite the wrong job title. Either way, it keeps them entertained enough, though Michael purposefully misses most times so Adam would win.

They even go through the in-flight entertainment where, while scrolling through the movie selections, Adam mentions that Night At The Museum is his favourite comedy movie. Michael's not exactly sure how useful that information is.

The flight goes by quickly and soon enough, they're at the airport where Amara is waiting for them with the supermodel smile Adam expected. She greets Michael with a hug, smiling, "Hey, kiddo."

"Amara, this is Adam, my friend," Michael introduces, pulling away from the embrace.

Amara is a tall woman with dark brown hair and if Adam knows her well enough from all her paparazzi photos and interviews, she has a soft spot for simple black dresses. She smiles, holding out a hand. "Nice to meet you, Adam."

"Same," Adam replies, shaking her hand. Surprisingly enough, it's one of the firmer handshakes in Adam's life. "I hope it's okay that I came with him. I've never been here before so I jumped at the chance."

"Really?" Amara asks, looking more than delighted. She glances at the clock on her phone and then says, "I still have about 5 hours until I need to get to Crossroads's studio for a photoshoot. Why don't I bring you boys around Fifth Avenue?"

Fifth Avenue is the most expensive place Adam has ever been to by far. Michael is right, Amara does like spoiling people. Given that she's a famous supermodel, she's _loaded_ , so she buys Adam a $2000 jacket just because he said he really liked it. Michael tells him that it feels embarrassing at first but to just go with it because Amara doesn't really care.

She even invites Adam and Michael to the photoshoot, insisting that if it's Adam's first time in New York, she wants to show him all the best parts of it — of course, to her, it's the high-end designer shops of the city and the photography studios of fashion brands. Of course, Adam accepts excitedly. Apparently, he used to have an interest in photography as a young child and was more than happy to come along.

Amara has a photoshoot booked with Crossroads, the company owned by the designer Amara sang praises about to Michael over text, Bela Talbot. The designer had moved from London years ago and, as she came from a wealthy family, started up Crossroads soon after. Her designs were modern and industrial, tending to stick to more neutral colour palettes. Michael thought they were quite nice.

There, Amara abandons them almost instantly, whisked away to get hair and makeup done before being put in the outfit selected for her. Adam mumbles, looking around the studio, "This is so cool."

"It gets uncomfortably hot after a while, though," Michael replies, watching the lights getting set up.

"You're Amara's nephew, right?" a British woman asks, walking over to them with a vibrant smile. She's dressed in clothes that, if Michael has gotten good enough at identifying brand cuts, seems to be from Max Mara. For a moment, Adam and Michael almost mistake her for another model but Michael quickly makes the connection that she's the British designer.

"Yes," Michael confirms. "I'm Michael, this is Adam." Adam raises a hand and a smile splits across his face and he looks so boyish and ridiculously happy to be there that Michael can't stop himself from smiling as well.

"I'm Bela Talbot, the designer," she says. "What's brought you two to my studio? Other than the obvious." She nods towards the corner where Amara is now getting makeup done.

"I really like photography," Adam pipes up.

"And he's never been to NYC before so I brought him," Michael adds.

Bela glances between them with a sly smile. She asks offhandedly, “You two look adorable, by the way. When did you start dating?” Michael and Adam glance at each other, confused.

Adam says, chuckling awkwardly, “We’re not dating.”

Bela’s eyes are narrowed as she looks over them, obviously unconvinced. To Michael, she seems like the kind of woman with a sharp intuition, so maybe it should be saying something that she thought they were boyfriends. Hell, even Inias and Mick thought so. Michael dismisses it—people do get things wrong, after all. As far as he knew, there was nothing between them.

“Sorry, darlings. Sometimes, I jump to conclusions,” she says, raising a perfectly trimmed eyebrow while not sounding very sorry at all. She could be a model if she didn’t want to be a designer, honestly. She looks around, now disinterested, and spots someone across the studio. She perks up and waves him over, grinning. “Gabe, darling, will you come here?”

The man walks over, spinning a cosmetics brush in his hand mindlessly. Half his face has makeup applied, beautifully blended blue eyeshadow across his left eyelid as he gives them an amused smile. “What’ya need?”

“This is Michael, Chuck Shurley’s son,” Bela introduces, gesturing to him. “And his friend, Adam. Boys, this is Gabriel Novak, the head makeup artist.”

Michael makes the connection. “Novak as in Castiel’s brother?”

“His one and only big bro,” Gabriel confirms, his face splitting into a wide grin. “Hey, Cassie’s climbing the social ladder, getting recognised and shit. Proud of the kiddo. He's gonna get so much bigger in the industry.” Michael hadn’t known that both Novak brothers were in the fashion industry. It must be interesting to work in the same field as your sibling. Sure, Chuck and Amara were the same but they weren’t close and it seemed to Michael that Castiel and Gabriel are on quite good terms.

“I met him a few months ago,” Michael says, watching Adam busy himself with a photographer offering to show him how to properly work the expensive camera. He didn’t blame him for not jumping into the conversation; Adam didn’t know much about the topic, to begin with. With no idea on who Castiel is or a basic idea about fashion, Adam must have felt like a fish out of water. Michael doesn’t know how to tell him that it didn't matter.

“Did you now?” Bela asks, taken by him again. “What did you think?”

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “She’s waiting for you to trash talk him so she can whack you with a stiletto.” Bela glares at him.

Michael clears his throat, mildly taken aback with Gabriel’s honest explanation of Bela’s vague question, and finds himself glancing at Adam again. “No need for that. Castiel was nice.”

Bela smiles, pleased. “I know! What a gentleman.”

“With the way you defend his brother, I’m surprised you and Wings don’t have anything going on,” a British man comments sarcastically, walking towards them. At Michael's foreign presence, he introduces, "Crowley. Crossroads designer."

Bela laughs at the idea, bringing them back to the conversation, “ _Me_? With him? No. Besides, I have a thing with that fashion student.”

“Masters?” Gabriel asks.

When Bela nods, Crowley sighs obnoxiously, looking up at the ceiling. “Oh, for the love of God. You two are like UK weather, always fluctuating. I never know what I’m gonna get with you two.”

Desperate to not seem like a social failure in front of Adam, Michael tries to get back into the chat again. “Who’s Masters?”

Bela makes a face as if a thought has just occurred to her and she says, “Meg Masters, she’s in her final year of studying fashion. I believe she’s transferring to your school in a bit, I’m not sure when exactly. Wisconsin Uni, right?”

“Right,” Michael affirms, though now he’s uncertain about if this means that Bela expects him to befriend Meg when she transfers over.

"Is your boyfriend a photographer?" Gabriel asks, using his brush to point to Adam. "He's awfully interested in it. I'm tempted to pass that cutie one of the extra cameras to bring home."

"Not his boyfriend," Bela corrects. Crowley gives him a disbelieving look.

Gabriel frowns. "Really? You've got the chemistry. You could score a date with him if you gave him one of these babies." He raises one of the unused handheld _Canon_ cameras.

"I don't want a date with him," Michael says, holding up a hand to reject the camera.

"Right," Crowley says, unconvinced.

**+**

After talking to one of the photographers who'd offered to give him some tips on taking good portrait shots, Adam had quietly slipped off to a corner. He did want to go back to Michael but he's busy in conversation with a makeup artist, the label CEO and who Adam assumes to be another designer. He knew nothing about fashion and knows that he'd just be a strange addition to the discussion so he thought it best to just stay out of their way until the photoshoot begins.

Instead, he decides to text Kevin.

 **[March 6, 2010, 1:52 PM]  
Adam Milligan:** Dude NYC is awesome  
 **Adam Milligan:** Michael's aunt is so cool

 **[March 6, 2010, 1:53 PM]  
Kevin Tran:** AMARA SHURLEY ?????  
 **Kevin Tran:** she's an amazing supermodel  
 **Kevin Tran:** THAT FIGURE! THAT WALK! THE FACE SHE GIVES! SELLING IT!

 **[March 6, 2010, 1:53 PM]  
Adam Milligan:** You lost me  
 **Adam Milligan:** Does all that mean she's hot?

 **[March 6, 2010, 1:53 PM]  
Kevin Tran:** Duh  
 **Kevin Tran:** Actually it's kinda weird to call Michael's aunt hot so I'm gonna stop  
 **Kevin Tran:** Speaking of which, how Adam's Hot Roommate?

 **[March 6, 2010, 1:54 PM]  
Adam Milligan:** Please tell me that's not his name in your contacts

 **[March 6, 2010, 1:54 PM]  
Kevin Tran:** :)

 **[March 6, 2010, 1:54 PM]  
Adam Milligan:** He's amazing ok  
 **Adam Milligan:** He explains anything I don't get and has just been super hospitable  
 **Adam Milligan:** But right now he's talking to a bunch of designers and idk anything about it so I'm just here

 **[March 6, 2010, 1:56 PM]  
Kevin Tran:** OMG WHO

 **[March 6, 2010, 1:56 PM]  
Adam Milligan:** Uh Bela Talbot and idk the other two's names

 **[March 6, 2010, 1:56 PM]  
Kevin Tran:** BELA IS A LEGEND  
 **Kevin Tran:** You have the best boyfriend ever

Adam is halfway through typing 'He's not my boyfriend' when Michael's voice interrupts his thoughts. He looks up, greeted by Michael's half-smile as he says, "The photoshoot's going to start, you can't stay in this corner."

"Oh, shit," Adam mumbles, following Michael to the other side of the studio to get out of their way. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Michael assures. "Gabriel and Crowley want to meet you so if you'd let me, can I introduce you?"

Adam agrees and meets Gabriel Novak, brother to that designer Kevin and Inias were fans of and makeup artist, and Crowley MacLeod, a designer Bela hired for Crossroads. He automatically decides that he likes Gabriel, he's just so jovial and friendly that Adam finds it hard not to. Crowley is a more sarcastic and perhaps even a bit cynical but at least he has charm going for him.

The photoshoot takes a while but after a few hours, Adam ends up with Gabriel, Crowley and Bela's numbers because they all liked him so much. Adam hates that a part of him wonders if that will earn him brownie points with Michael.

Michael does seem happy that Adam's befriending them, though.

**+**

Amara got them a room at Concorde Hotel to stay in for the night before they fly back the next afternoon on Sunday — two singles instead of a double, thankfully. She picked that one since it's near Fifth Avenue so they can easily visit it one last time before leaving if Adam wanted to go again.

"Behave, boys," Amara had told them before leaving them to their room.

Once she's gone, Adam tosses his backpack onto the bed near the window like it's a basketball. "Dibs!"

"Don't you have a $2000 jacket in there?" Michael asks, pointing at the backpack.

"I put it in your bag when you weren't looking," Adam says, grinning, and Michael unzips it to find that the jacket is indeed there. He carefully takes it out and lays it out on the table. "Today was really fun, Michael. Thanks for bringing me."

"Why wouldn't I?" Michael questions. He pulls out some clothes from his bag and says, "I'm going to shower first if you don't mind." Adam waves him off and while Michael is showering, Adam gets his own clothes ready for his turn, waiting by texting Amelia who wants to know about his day in New York.

Ten minutes later, Michael steps out of the bathroom in black drawstring shorts and no shirt in sight.

Adam doesn't catch himself staring until Michael clears his throat, looking down at himself. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it," Adam manages. "I'm gonna go shower now."

Adam showers as slow as he can and then washes up for the night, coming out of the bathroom twenty minutes later to see Michael on his phone in his bed. He asks, trying to look anywhere else, "Are you going to sleep soon?"

"In a bit," Michael answers, sparing Adam a quick glance. "Gabriel won't stop sending me images."

"Alright," Adam says. "Goodnight."

"You're sleeping now?" Michael asks, finally looking up. He actually looks kind of disappointed, if Adam thought he was fluent in the language of Michael's facial expressions.

"Yep," Adam says, getting into his bed. He's dressed in an old shirt with a print of Spider-Man on it and red shorts that are unbelievably comfortable. He turns the light on his bedside table off and mumbles 'goodnight' one more time, letting exhaustion from the long day take him.

Michael disregards Gabriel's latest text and sees Adam fall right asleep, huddled in the soft white duvet. For a minute too long, he cannot pull his eyes away from how peaceful Adam looks like that.

For eternity, Michael wishes he could freeze time to this very moment.

"Goodnight," Michael says into the night, turning his own light off.


	4. Abatement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/ Michael gets in a fight

**abatement**  
 _noun  
_ the act of suppression.

Since getting back onto campus from New York City, Adam and Michael have busied themselves with finishing up the paper Asmodeus tasked them to do for their exams on any health-related topics. Michael chose to write on narcissism and Adam picked genetic engineering just because he thought it would be interesting. He ended up spending a much longer time on his paper than Michael did but at least he’s close to finishing it in time for the April submission date.

After the trip, Adam’s glad to see that Michael’s seemingly becoming better friends with the people they met there, particularly Gabriel and Bela. Even Adam gets texts from them sometimes and while he’s not familiar with that industry, it’s still cool to know people who have lives as wild as theirs. Just the other day, Gabriel accidentally sent him a selfie of him making out with an unidentifiable celebrity meant for Castiel.

The dorm has now reached the point where it’s becoming more of a home for both of them—the room has lost the smell of former perfumery students and now smells a bit like Michael’s newspaper crosswords and Adam’s conditioned comic books. Sometimes, Adam leaves his clothes lying around out of habit and Michael picks them up to put in the wash, where Adam finds them neatly folded on his bed later that day. It’s like they’ve settled into the kind of domesticity that comes with becoming used to each other’s presence and Adam can’t help but enjoy the way that it feels like they’re boyfriends in a new apartment together.

Adam’s favourite part of living with Michael has got to be waking up because Michael naturally woke up early and he lets Adam sleep in. If he has to get up, Michael wakes him up so gently; He taps Adam’s hand where it hangs off the edge of the top bunk and mumbles a quiet ‘good morning’. It’s just too nice. 

Of course, Kevin and Amelia get a fucking kick out of it and insist that they’re dating and everyone knows it except them, but Adam tells them to shut up because *no, Michael doesn’t like me that way.*

Despite that, sometimes Adam does wonder if Michael truly doesn’t feel anything because they hold eye contact too long to be friends.

Outside of childish boy trouble, Adam is busy with his schoolwork. The assignments have obviously piled up well into the start of their fifth month on top of exams. Amelia comes over to their dorm to run through the syllabus the night before every paper. Michael suggests not going through the content too many times because it just convinces your mind that you don’t actually remember any of it. Adam takes a leap of faith and follows the advice. If he tanks hard, he’ll just tell his mom that it’s his roommate’s fault.

Things at home are the same as always. Kate calls every other day to check on him and she always asks how is he on John’s behalf, though Adam is more than sure that John has never once asked her to pass the question along. The few calls of Michael’s that Adam is present to hear, they’re from Gabriel, Bela, Amara or Crowley. Maybe he and Castiel aren’t that close.

Sometimes, he'll get a text from Gabriel that'll be a picture of something completely random and the attached caption will be along the lines of 'Michael told me this about you so I thought of you when I saw this'.

Adam wonders just how often does Michael talk about him that Gabriel knows him well enough to associate random New York things with him.

**+**

To finish his paper, Michael decides to skip that day's lecture which Adam thinks is a little counterproductive but he leaves without Michael anyway, joining up with Amelia at her dorm and going to the hall together. A part of Adam considers that perhaps he should've taken a page out of Michael's book and cut class to complete his own paper since he still has a few paragraphs to go but apparently, today's lecture is one of the numerous ones about microbiology and Adam actually quite likes the topic.

Amelia scores them seats in the middle row and they pull out their laptops to take notes for the class. Amelia says conversationally, booting up her Macbook, "I'm thinking of asking that guy out after class." She points towards a boy sitting two rows down, slightly floppy brown hair and a sharp nose.

Adam raises his eyebrows and nods slowly, approving, "Not bad. What's his name?"

"Scott," Amelia answers before she frowns, propping her chin on her arm in thought. "Thing is, he looks a little bit like my ex from high school."

"In what way?" Adam asks, keying in the date and title of his notes for the day. He'll probably airdrop the notes to Michael when he returns to the dorm.

"The hair, the nose, they kind have the same puppy dog eyes too," Amelia replies, doing the same in her own notes as the professor comes in, greeting everyone. "Sam was great but he moved to California to study law."

"Wow, a lawyer," Adam mumbles, impressed. "Imagine getting in a fight with him."

Amelia makes a show of shuddering, shaking it off to begin writing notes. "God, he was already really good at arguing before he left for Stanford. I wanted to come here and learn to be a vet. Maybe in a couple of years, we'll see each other again, work things out. Get another shot, you know?"

"Don't go back to people you've dated before. That never works out," Adam discourages.

"Yeah," Amelia agrees, sighing. "So... You think I should give Scott a try?"

"I won't tell you what to do," Adam replies, making Amelia elbow him in the ribs before she quickly diverts her attention to the professor and the lecture.

**+**

_adam milligram wants to send you a file!_

"Adam Milligram?" Michael echoes, looking up from the sushi tray Adam had bought for them to share to raise an eyebrow at him. They decided to find some change of scenery and work in the schoolyard instead, sitting at a wooden picnic table situated under a shady tree. It was the perfect place to get work done.

"My laptop autocorrected Milligan to milligram but I thought it was funny so I never changed it," Adam explains and Michael clicks 'accept', the notes file dropping into his laptop's notes application. "I hope the notes are coherent enough. I was kind of drifting midway."

Michael smiles, taking one of the pairs of chopsticks and picking up sushi. "Happens to the best of us."

"I can't fucking..." Adam mutters, trying to use his own chopsticks. "How do you do that?"

Michael leans forward to rest his hand over Adam's across the table, guiding his hands. "It's easy. Here, I'll help you."

It's all Adam can do to try not to show how embarrassed he suddenly became, feeling Michael's hand on his. Kate has made him watch too many rom-coms, clearly, because the first thing he thinks is that it feels like this should've been what they do from the beginning.

They're too close, his feelings are betraying him.

The moment Adam picks up a piece of sushi with Michael's help, Michael releases him and he yearns for his touch once more. He's a little ashamed to admit that he had a brief moment of consideration to let the sushi drop back on the plastic tray so Michael will have to hold his hand again. He sucks it up and eats the sushi, watching Michael grin at him. "There you go."

"Thanks," Adam mumbles. Michael looks happy, they're alone under a shady fucking tree and the weather is beautiful, it would be such a good moment to just admit to him that he has a stupid crush on him, and—

"Sorry, I have a call," Michael interrupts his thoughts, giving him an apologetic look and standing to take the call privately.

Adam smacks his forehead. _You gay idiot._

**+**

“Do you have a painkiller?”

“No,” Michael answers, glancing over at Adam. After the four-hour-long lecture about anatomy, by the time they got back to their dorm, Adam was way too lazy to climb up the bunk ladder to his own bed so Michael let him rest on his bed instead. “Why? Did you get injured?”

Adam presses his lips together and gestures to his notebook. “I’m tired of staring at my paper.”

“Well, I don’t, but I can ask Kevin and Mick if you really need it,” Michael offers, already getting up from his desk, but Adam shakes his head.

“It’s okay,” Adam assures, sparing a quick look at him and noticing that he’s not writing anything. “You’re done?” Michael nods to confirm it and Ada, sighs, looking up at the ceiling as he says, “I still have a conclusion to write.”

“At least you’re almost done.”

Adam nods, huffing a breath from his nose. “Yeah, but if I have to read the phrase ‘genetic engineering’ one more time, I think I’ll wreck my laptop.” Michael smiles at that and looks back at his laptop. He was transferring handwritten notes to his laptop—he’d forgotten to bring his laptop during the anatomy lecture and had to painstakingly write his notes by hand the whole time which had Adam snickering.

Halfway through writing about the circulatory system, Adam speaks up. “Michael.”

“Hm?” Michael hums, typing out another sentence in his notes document, his fingers tapping quietly against the keyboard.

Adam says again, “ _Michael_.”

He pauses typing. “What?”

“Mi-chael,” Adam drags out mindlessly.

He finally stops and turns halfway in his chair to see Adam lie sideways on his bed with his copy of The Phantom of the Opera in front of him. “ _Yes_ , Adam?”

He gives Michael the most insufferably endearing grin he has ever seen and says, “Nothing, I just really like your name.”

Michael stares at him, no sound coming from him though his lips are parted. He watches Adam chuckle quietly, mouthing Michael’s name once more to himself, silently, as his gaze falls back onto his book. When it’s clear that Adam’s attention has now been taken by the book again, Michael gradually turns back to his laptop to resume his notes. He finds that he can’t type—all he can think about is Adam saying his name and how the syllables sound perfect in his mouth like that’s where his name has always belonged.

He types out his name in a new paragraph and stares at it.

_Michael._

“Adam,” he says absently.

Adam glances up from his page. “Yeah?”

“Nothing, I just really like your name,” Michael replies and Adam laughs, shaking his head and returning to his book again. Adam had a nice name too.

**+**

Michael is dragged off of campus by Mick, insisting that he has a friend from food science by the name of Benjamin Lafitte that he has to meet, so Adam concludes that there's no point staying in the dorm if Michael isn't there anymore. He goes straight for Inias's room, knowing that Arthur is off at a class that Inias had decided to skip to work on the jacket he's submitting for an exam.

Benny is a likeable enough guy, spare him being moderately standoffish with strangers, but Michael ends up agreeing to go for coffee with him and Mick again the next day. They eat at a diner twenty minutes away from campus that sells food that Michael insists should be restaurant-standard. Of course, the food science student knows where to get the best food. At some point, they'd started exchanging funny stories about themselves; Mick tells them about the time he tried to ask out someone named Timothy and ended up falling into a bush somehow. Benny recounts the time his ex-boyfriend Dean tried to impress him by climbing a tree, then panicked because he had no idea how to get down.

By the time Michael is on his way back to his dorm, he's in such a good mood that he's not sure what can possibly ruin it.

Michael starts talking the moment he enters the dorm, rambling as he hangs his jacket on the hook behind the door, “Mick introduced me to this friend of his and I think you would like him.” His thoughts abruptly cut off the moment he turns around and sees Adam looking more miserable than he’d seen him in the past three months. He puts his bag down on the floor and moves nearer, hand reaching out to graze Adam’s arm lightly. “Adam, what’s wrong?”

Adam uselessly gestures to his desk. “My essay for Asmodeus’s class.” Michael shifts to look at it, realising that the pen ink has been smudged beyond recovery, the paper soaked and torn.

Dreadfully, Michael says, “The one that’s...”

“The one that’s due tomorrow, yeah,” Adam verifies, burying his head in his hands. “What am I gonna do, Michael? It’s due _tomorrow_. I’m never gonna finish rewriting it in time.”

“How did this even happen?” Michael questions, scanning around the room. There aren’t any bottles or mugs on either of their desks, neither did it look like there was an accidental spill.

Adam mutters, lifting his eyes to look at Michael, “I think it was Arthur.” He looks like he’d cried before Michael came back from helping Mick and tried to recollect himself. At Michael’s confused expression, Adam explains, “While you were out with Mick, I went to Inias’s room to hang out since Arthur wasn’t there. I unintentionally knocked over a glass of water and it ruined his sketches. But they were _photocopies_. I offered to pay for reprinting but he didn’t want my money.”

Michael feels something like fire in his veins—Arthur destroyed Adam’s essay over print-outs. He could just print another copy, Adam has to write his essay from _scratch_. Michael knows how hard Adam had worked on that essay. Hell, Michael himself has been writing his paper as well, he knows that it’s laborious. Now, it sits as a ravaged mess on Adam’s desk, irreversibly damaged.

“I’m going to...” Michael trails off, staring at Adam being this upset. He’s not sure what he’s going to do yet, he just knows that he can’t stand seeing Adam like this. He walks down the hallway to Inias and Arthur’s room, ignoring Adam asking where he’s going, and knocks on the door, plastering on his typical neutral expression.

Arthur opens the door and lifts an eyebrow inquisitively. “Michael. What do you want?”

Michael wants to force Arthur to apologise to Adam. He wants to yell at him for being this petty over photocopies and maybe about the way he treats Mick while he’s at it. A better frame of mind tells him to just talk things out with Arthur like two adults because that’s what they are. Convince Arthur that he overreacted and to express his remorse to Adam, then they can call it a night and Adam can attempt to ask for an extension, though Asmodeus isn’t so yielding.

The image of Adam, upset beyond words, presents itself in his mind and it all goes out of the window with Michael’s common sense. Michael decides to do something stupid, probably the first of many stupid things he’d do for Adam.

He punches Arthur in the hallway.

“ _Fuck_!” Arthur cusses, hand flying up to his jaw where Michael hit him. “What is your problem? Christ’s sake.”

“This is ridiculous, even for you,” Michael replies, walking into the dorm to keep the conversation to themselves. “Adam worked on that paper for three months!”

“Then he shouldn’t have ruined my sketches!” Arthur argues. Before Michael can do anything, Arthur takes a swing at him and he manages to get his cheek. “Why are you here anyway? Are you his boyfriend or what? Did he come crying to you? ‘Oh, Michael, Arthur’s done it this time!’” He uses a mockingly whiny voice at the end to do a poor imitation of Adam with a bad American accent and Michael can’t stop himself from hitting Arthur again.

Now angered, Arthur pushes Michael up against the bunk’s ladder, ready to have another go at him, but Michael is strong enough to get out of his grip. Arthur’s fist does follow him and hits him once more but Mick and Adam rush into the dorm before either boy can escalate the fight.

“Stop it!” Mick shouts, pulling Arthur back, away from Michael. “Both of you. This is _absurd_.”

“Michael, are you okay?” Adam asks, taking Michael’s face in his hands to get a better look. Michael winces when his palm touches his cheek and Adam frowns, glaring at Arthur. “Swear to God, Mick. If Arthur comes at him again, I _don’t care_ —“

“He started it!” Arthur says defensively, letting Mick sit him down on the lower bunk. “You’re insane.”

Michael jerks back at him, provoked, and Adam quickly stops him from going for Arthur again. “Michael, oh my God, _stop_. Come on, let’s go back to the dorm.”

He relents when Adam touches his face again. It’s strange, it’s as if Adam had a calming effect on him. All the fight leaves his body and he and Adam exit Arthur’s dorm to go back down the hallway to their own. His jaw is sore where Arthur got him. A girl’s eyes follow them until they disappear into their room.

When they’re back, Adam closes the door behind them and locks it so they have privacy, taking Michael’s arm to bring him to their small bathroom. He sits him down on the toilet lid and kneels in front of him to bring himself down to Michael’s height. Gently cupping Michael’s face, Adam squints as he checks for the extent of Arthur’s hits. “Nothing too big, but I think you’re going to have a bruise or two.”

Michael shrugs, not caring that much about it. “I think Amelia will loan me some makeup.”

Adam gives him an injured look and stands up, his hands raising Michael’s face so his eyes follow his. It’s so... intimate. Domestic. Easy. 

Michael’s mouth runs dry.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Adam says sternly, though his eyes betray him; there is no real anger behind the words, and it is nearly too fond.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Michael replies, eyebrows furrowing like Adam is saying something ludicrous. “You’re my friend.”

Adam loses the severe look and trades it for a kinder gaze and a soft smile. “You got punched twice for me. You’re my _best_ friend.” He adds belatedly, joking, “Don’t tell Kevin, though. He’ll lose it.”

“I won’t,” Michael promises, the slightest hint of a grin on his face. His first best friend.

They hold their stares for a bit too long, longer than best friends should, and Michael is the first to look away. Adam instantly withdraws his hands and Michael faintly leans to try and feel it for just a second more.

Adam clears his throat, one hand on his hip and the other pushing his hair up out of his eyes. “Do you think Asmodeus will give me an extra week to redo the essay if I beg for it?”

“No,” Michael says honestly and Adam chuckles humourlessly, acknowledging that it’s wishful thinking. Deciding that his best friend is indubitably more important than sleep, Michael offers, “I’ll stay up and help you redo the paper.”

Adam’s eyes drag up from the tiled bathroom floor to Michael’s. “What?”

“We’ll use mine as a point of reference for the structure. There’s still some parts of your paper that can be made out; you work on that and I’ll find some sources that we can work through together,” Michael suggests earnestly. “We’ll be finished by sunrise if we don’t take any breaks.”

Adam’s face splits into a sunny grin, grateful, and asks, “You’d do that for me?”

“I got punched twice for you,” Michael points out, his index finger touching his cheek where Arthur struck him the first time. “I think, at this point, anything goes.”

Adam pouts slightly and his hand abandons his hair to hold Michael’s face again. “Do you want me to go find some painkillers for you? I think Kev has some.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Michael answers. It didn’t—after Adam touched him, it didn’t ache at all.

“If you say so,” Adam says doubtfully. His hand falls away once more and he steps out of the bathroom. “We should get started if we want to get some sleep before lunch.”

Michael follows him and gets his laptop, opening it to begin looking for new sources for Adam to use. He hands Adam his essay as Adam grabs some fresh paper. He reminds, “Paraphrase it.”

“I was _quite_ the copy artist in high school,” Adam jokes, clicking his pen to begin writing the introduction.

**+**

Sometime after 6 AM, Adam raises the completed paper and announces, “It’s done. Holy shit, it’s done. We made the deadline.” Michael collapses onto his bed, exhausted yet relieved, and Adam says, “I owe you for this, Michael. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Michael says, smiling gently.

The first rays of the morning sun peek through the blinds and cast themselves across his face and Adam perks up, moving over to the window. He draws the blinds and opens the window, sitting on the edge of it as he looks out. Dawn’s light pours over the campus and Michael sees the steady stream of morning sunlight crawl into their room.

Adam grins against the rising sun. “Will you watch with me?”

“Alright,” Michael accepts, getting up to sit next to Adam on the windowsill. It’s not very wide so they end up with their legs pressed together, ultimately just leaning against each other because it’s admittedly more comfortable than trying to give each other space. The light paints Adam’s skin with the soft glow of daybreak.

“I don’t get to see the sunrise very often. I’m always too late,” Adam says regretfully, eyes squinting against the golden view.

“You’re right on time,” Michael replies, nodding once towards the stunning view ahead of them.

The air becomes sweet and still around them, quiet birdsong filling the silence, and Adam says, a little bit breathless, “This is so beautiful.”

Michael does his charming little half-smile, the light giving his verdant eyes more of a golden hue. “It really is.”

Adam rests his head on Michael’s shoulder, this feeling more normal than it probably should, and Michael naturally draws him closer by his shoulder. Softly, Adam mumbles, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Adam,” Michael returns, and they silently watch the sunrise and the day begins.

And this, so achingly normal.

**+**

Once Mick leaves to get coffee with some friends including Michael, Adam goes across the hall into Kevin’s dorm, closing the door behind him with a wide grin. Kevin looks up from his sketchbook and narrows his eyes. “That look. What happened?”

“Michael punched Arthur last night,” Adam says, barely able to make it through the full sentence without laughing and Kevin’s mouth falls open. He closes the sketchbook and tosses it onto Mick’s bunk, turning to sit in his chair backwards to give Adam his full attention.

“No way,” Kevin breathes. “Not that I don’t want to do that either but why did he do that?”

“Remember how I went to Inias’s room yesterday?” Adam asks. Kevin nods and he continues, “There was this glass of water on the table and I didn’t see it so I knocked it over on accident. It ruined Arthur’s printout sketches and I asked if I could pay for reprinting and he said no. I thought that was it but then he came and destroyed my paper. It was completely soaked.”

Kevin stares at him, horrified. “The one you did on genetic engineering?” When Adam affirms it, Kevin looks like someone has killed his dog in front of him. “Too far, man. You worked real hard on that.”

Adam goes on explaining, “When Michael found out, he got mad and went to punch him.” He raises an enticed eyebrow and grins, adding, “Not gonna lie to you, Kev. Angry Michael is kinda hot.”

Kevin recoils but laughs, shaking his head. “Dude, your paper was ruined! I know I talk about you two a lot but I think you have bigger concerns.”

“Am I not allowed to talk about him? You have him saved as ‘Adam’s Hot Roommate’ in your contacts. Shut up,” Adam mutters, rolling his eyes as Kevin nudges him, grinning. “Anyway, Michael stayed up all night to help me rewrite the paper, then we sat at the windowsill and watched the sunrise.”

Kevin finally stops joking around and crosses his arms across the top of his chair, saying, “Adam, seriously. Michael’s in _love_ with you.”

“Get over it, he's not,” Adam asserts.

“Think about it for a minute!” Kevin says, unwilling to let Adam breeze past it. “Arthur wrecks your paper so he goes and _punches_ the guy. Adam, you’re my friend and I love you, but I wouldn’t fight Arthur Ketch for you. For Channing, maybe, but I wouldn’t fight him for you over a paper.”

“Thanks,” Adam says sarcastically. "You're a really good friend."

“You know what I mean,” Kevin mumbles. “On top of that, stays up to do the paper with you when he could have let you do it on your own or let you bargain with Asmodeus. Then he watched the sunrise with you at your window? Don’t think I haven’t noticed the fact that you have one of his jackets. That jacket is _not_ cheap, I would know. And that time in the library! You tell him you’re cold and he drops everything to bring you a hoodie? Then he takes you on a trip to New York because you’ve never been? _Come on._ You can’t possibly believe he doesn’t have at _least_ a crush on you.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, man. You’re delusional,” Adam says carelessly and Kevin groans loudly, burying his head in his arms. Deciding to change the subject before his hopes get too high, Adam asks, “Anyway, what about you and Channing? How’s that going?”

Kevin pulls his dead stare up to look at Adam and mutters, “We’ve got an expiry date.”

“What? Why? I thought you two were really cute,” Adam says, confused by Kevin’s declaration.

“Yeah, and she’s amazing, but after graduating, I might move to Queens if I get that NOVAK job,” Kevin says. At Adam’s blank stare, he explains, “I submitted an application because Castiel’s looking for employees for his new label NOVAK right now and I thought I’d try my luck. I think he only wants to hire the best so he’s got a few stages of applications and I got past the first one, so fingers crossed.”

“Dude, that’s awesome,” Adam says, putting his hands on Kevin’s shoulders to shake him lightly in excitement. "You're so gonna get that job."

Kevin smiles and pats Adam back in gratitude, continuing, “Thanks. Inias and this girl called Charlie got past too but Mick didn’t try for NOVAK. Anyway, chances are I might have to move to Queens for the job after graduation in 2012 but the thing is that Channing doesn’t wanna move to New York.”

Adam gapes, bewildered. “Who doesn’t wanna move to New York? I mean, Michael says it gets kinda gross sometimes but still.”

“Yeah, I know,” Kevin frowns. “She wants to move to, like, the UK. I don't know how that's any better than New York, but that's what she wants. Clearly, we can't come to a consensus about it so we're probably breaking up sooner or later.”

“I’m sorry, Kev. I know you really liked her,” Adam tries to comfort Kevin.

Kevin waves, dismissing it. “It’s fine. Our lives would be too different anyway. She’ll be writing books about solving world poverty or something and I’ll be too busy trying to get 20 Hermés skirts for Castiel. I don’t think we’d have time for each other.”

"Life's moving way too fast," Adam huffs out a breath. Hopefully, it'll slow down long enough for Adam to get his shit together and just admit that he likes Michael.


	5. Intoxicating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/ Drinking and being drunk

**intoxicating**  
 _adjective  
_ exhilarating or exciting.

As they stumble through their last papers for the first term of exams and finally get to the end, Michael, Adam and their friends begin thinking of how they can celebrate the end of the term. Kevin suggested a casino, mostly because his mother would never allow him to go back in Michigan and he always wanted to see what it was like inside, which has everyone saying no because Linda Tran will never let them hear the end of it even if they didn’t spend any money. Amelia raises them the idea of camping out in one of their dorms and binge watch a tv series together. It was a pretty entertaining idea for a whole of 5 minutes until Mick points out that Inias will definitely fall asleep somewhere into the fifth episode and that Charlie, who’d grown to be part of their friend group recently, would be on her phone with her girlfriend for most of it. The plans keep falling through, and nobody can think of something they can all do together.

Michael takes the reprieve from avid studying to dump all the textbooks at an untouched corner of his desk so he can get back to reading — he really did love to read; of course, thick classic books were a favourite, he adored the colourful language, but he also liked to learn about things that weren’t being fed through a school curriculum, so it’s more than welcome to have the free time to learn a new language or read up on astronomy. Adam even says he’ll study with him if that’s what he wants to do with his freed-up time. Michael’s not going to say no.

Adam says he’s found himself a new spot to hang out—the arcade across the road from the university. Apparently, for the two hours or so after a paper that Adam disappears on him for, he, Kevin and Charlie are simply retreating to the arcade to spend endless quarters to beat each other up with 16-bit street fighters. He invites Michael to come along with him, just the two of them as Kevin and Charlie are busy with fashion assignment, so Michael obviously agrees because he can’t say no to that face.

The arcade has definitely been here for a long time, with seasoned joysticks and buttons on the machines and worn seats for the racing games, plus the lingering faint smell of rusty coins and ticket paper. The girl at the counter—Alex Mills, as her nametag reads—greets them with an insincere smile and Adam gets her to switch his 10 dollar bill for quarters to play some games.

“We have more than enough coins for the next half hour,” Adam says happily, holding up the small plastic bag full of coins between them. He adds like an afterthought, “Or 15 minutes if we’re that fast.”

“We’ll make it last,” Michael says, following Adam as he navigates through the noisy machines to get to the street fighter console. “If the arcade really is as fun as you make it out to be, I’ll pay for another half hour.”

Adam flashes him one of the most endearing grins Michael’s ever seen on him, and he picks the left side of the machine so Michael gets the other side. Of course, Adam excitedly helps select the characters for them—he picks a blond in red uniform for himself and a black-haired man in white for Michael, their names being Ken and Ryu respectively. It doesn’t take a genius to know Adam picked characters that resembled them the most.

Michael jokes about it, “I think Ken’s a lot more jacked than you are, Adam.”

“What are you talking about? I’m plenty jacked,” Adam scoffs, nudging him to signal the start of the game. Michael loses the first round, still getting used to the controls, but afterwards, he starts winning a lot more which has Adam desperately slamming the buttons.

In the end, Michael wins about half of the rounds and Adam rolls his eyes, muttering that it’s only beginner’s luck, and then he drags him over to a first-person shooter game a few feet away from them.

“So what are we killing?” Michael asks, picking up a red plastic gun as Adam grabs the blue one next to his, putting in quarters to start the game for both of them.

“Zombies,” Adam answers, using his gun to shoot at the ‘START’ button on the screen in front of them.

The thing about Michael is that he’s not as inexperienced at shooting than he is at fighting with one button and a joystick—when he was a bit younger, around 16 or so, Amara had friends that owned a shooting range and she sometimes brought Michael. In hindsight, perhaps it’s a bit irresponsible of her to bring a 16-year-old to a shooting range, but he did learn how to aim and fire, even though he swore he’d never get a gun.

Though, this also means this game instantly becomes his favourite. He shoots and decimates zombies, his character making it all the way to the other side of the arena as Adam curses loudly when he can’t keep up and gets eaten. Defeated, he puts the plastic gun back into the holster and stands by Michael’s side, watching him play.

“How are you so good at this?”

“I know how to shoot,” Michael mumbles, focusing on the game as the onslaught of zombies gets more intense the closer he gets to the end of the map. “Amara’s friends taught me.”

Adam raises his eyebrows, half impressed and half amazed. “My dad used to have a gun and he would just shoot glass bottles in this empty field out of town. I never tried it.”

“It’s better if you don’t,” Michael replies, killing a zombie that comes way too close to the screen for his liking now that he’s almost done. “You’re too sweet for that. I can’t imagine you with a gun. Those are for complete maniacs.’

“Oh, so when I learn to shoot, I’m a maniac, but when you do, you’re a badass zombie terminator,” Adam says sarcastically.

“Now you get it,” Michael says, teasing, and Adam’s mouth falls open with silent protests. Finally, his character makes it to the end, and the screen declares that he’s completed the map and asks for a 3-letter name to log him into the scoreboard.

Michael keys in _MDS_.

“What’s that mean?” Adam asks, watching Michael use the gun to pick the letters and secure his place on the scoreboard. The ‘MDS’ sits triumphantly up in third place.

“They’re my initials,” Michael answers, and Adam’s dumbfounded expression just helps Michael realise that he’s never told him that he had a middle name.

“You have a middle name? I did not know that.” Adam looks way too interested in a detail as dull as his name. “What the hell does the ‘D’ stand for?”

Michael sighs, slotting the gun back into the holster and collecting the tickets that the machine spits out. “It stands for Dean. Michael Dean Shurley.” Having Dean be his middle name felt a little strange after finding out that Benny’s ex-boyfriend was named Dean and middle names didn’t seem that important to Michael anyway, so he just never told anyone about it.

“Who picked it?” Adam asks, taking the roll of tickets from Michael’s hand. Their fingers graze, and Michael tries to ignore the unconscious want to chase his hand back into his.

“I believe it was the name of the nurse that carried me the first time,” Michael says, diverting his own attention. That’s what Amara had told him—at his birth, when Chuck left to get his farewells to his wife in her final breaths, a nurse called Dean Smith carefully handed the small newborn to Amara so Chuck had room to grieve. She then picked the nurse’s name to be Michael’s middle name. He doesn’t want to ruin their good mood by elaborating so he stops there.

“Hey, that’s cute. Like a good luck kind of thing,” Adam says.

 _More like a constant reminder of my mother_ , Michael thinks.

Adam glances up for a second to smile at him before going back to counting the tickets. “I don’t have a middle name. Wish I did, though I can’t think of anything that has a ring to it.”

Michael follows Adam to a claw machine and suggests, pretending to be thinking deeply but mostly wanting to poke fun at him, “Adam Michael Milligan.”

Adam scoffs and stops in front of a claw machine featuring plush toys of Star Wars characters, pointing out one of the ones in the centre. “If you win me that Obi-Wan Kenobi, then I’ll make that my middle name.”

“Deal,” Michael says, slotting in the quarter and moving the joystick to hover it over the Obi-Wan plush. Adam watches from the side of the machine, telling Michael to move it a little bit to the left, and then Michael decides to go for it. He hits the button and the claw descends. It loops through the label and lifts it up for five promising seconds before it falls back into the pile, crushing Michael’s hope in front of him.

“Fuck,” Michael curses, and Adam doubles over to laugh at his failure to get the plush.

“I guess I’ll have to pick a different middle name—”

“No, wait. I’m trying again,” Michael grumbles, holding out a hand. “Quarter me, Adam.”

Adam looks wildly amused by this, placing another coin in his open palm. “Quartering you.” Michael starts a new game and tries again—this time, the plush drops right at the hole, rolling back into the pile instead of down to the collection chute, and Michael frowns in disappointment and disbelief.

“Should I quarter you again?” Adam asks, reaching into the bag to retrieve another coin like he already knows the answer.

“ _Quarter me_ ,” Michael orders, and Adam laughs as he puts the coin into the slot for him. The claw picks up something again—a plush of Han Solo. This time, it makes it down the hole, and Michael bends down to fetch it from the bottom.

Adam takes the Han plush from Michael, looking it over with a grin, and Michael says, “You win, I give up. I’m not going to do more than three games on a claw machine. That’s just a waste of coins.”

“Lucky for you, I actually love Han a lot,” Adam replies, beaming at him. “Good enough for me. I guess my new name is Adam Michael Milligan.”

Michael Milligan sounds really good actually, though Michael would never actually admit it. He tries not to think about ‘Michael Milligan’ in any other context than Adam’s honorary middle name, but they intrude on his thoughts, unwanted and begging his attention.

Clearly, the consideration over _Michael Milligan_ won’t be going anywhere for a while, if the quickened pace of his heart suggested anything. Michael isn’t the type to jump to conclusions—he surmises that it’s simply adrenaline from the games; fighting, shooting and then a despicable claw machine to win certainly makes for a tense time—but the defence goes out the window when Adam smiles at him, pointing out a set-up of Guitar Hero across the arcade, and he can hear his chest in his ears.

 _This doesn’t have to mean anything_ , Michael assures himself as he trails behind Adam, the Han plush feeling painfully heavy in his arms despite how physically light it is. _You’re studying the human heart and brain. There’s a bunch of chemicals that can do this to you; norepinephrine and epinephrine from the sympathetic nervous system, for example. It doesn’t have to be related to Adam at all. Not everything has to mean something. Least of all Adam._

And yet here he is, holding a plush of Han Solo he won with three quarters for a boy trying to play Guitar Hero in an arcade with his name as a middle name.

**+**

It takes a while longer than Michael had expected, but he eventually gets a text from Bela congratulating him on finishing his exams and informing him that her girlfriend Meg has enrolled in Wisconsin University. Bela tells him that Meg is just there to get more content on her resumé while Bela sets something up for her.

 _Would you be so kind as to befriend her while she’s there_ , was Bela’s request. _She tends to get on people’s bad side and doesn’t make friends easily. She won’t be at university long but will you?_

Michael had told her he would try, unwilling to promise anything with no actual knowledge of what kind of person Meg Masters is, though he’s not sure what he’d signed up for when a dark-haired girl in an Alexander McQueen jacket knocks on his dorm door and grumbles a half-hearted, “Bela told me to find you. Shurley’s kid, right?”

“Yes,” Michael affirms. He watches, confused and wary, as Meg casually strolls past him into his dorm and settles in Adam’s chair as if she belongs there. “How long will you be here for?”

“Just until Bela gets me an interview with her bestie,” Meg says, sarcastically saying ‘bestie’ with an exasperated roll of her eyes. So Bela is trying to set Meg up for a job at Castiel’s label, NOVAK. Friends in high places definitely get you somewhere. She looks around the dorm and then asks, “Where’s your roomie?”

“With friends, but he should be back anytime now,” Michael answers.

Meg’s eyes skate across the room, picking it apart and making conclusions, and she looks back at Michael, suggestive. “Or is he more than a roomie?”

“He’s my best friend,” Michael says, not liking what her tone is implying.

“Sure,” Meg replies. “So, you like this kid? When I was moving in, I saw you taking laundry back to your room and it is definitely not yours if Shurley’s your dad—”

He sits down on his bed to level with Meg and snaps, “You know, polite people don’t barge in uninvited and make assumptions about roommates.”

“Well, I’ve been told I’m not polite,” Meg says simply like it’s a good answer. In retrospect, it _could_ be deemed a good answer, but Meg is picking at a splinter on Adam’s desk with a chipped painted nail and her boots obviously haven’t been polished in months, in which both details have Michael pretty irritated so he can’t exactly see why Bela likes this girl so much. “I’m staying pretty far from you two, I’m down in 501.”

Michael nods—she’s not making a spectacular first impression, at least not on him, so the information is completely lost on him. “I don’t care.”

Meg tilts her head slightly, obnoxiously amused expression on her face. “You don’t like me.” Michael doesn’t grace her with an answer and she laughs, throwing her head back with the sound, and then leans forward in the chair. “Bel said you’d be a little hard to win over.”

“Did she? Why would you have to win me over?”

“Your family,” Meg says, rolling her eyes. “She thinks Chuck and Amara will be good contacts to build a ‘relationship’ with.” She says ‘relationship’ while miming quotation marks.

He’s about to answer when Adam walks in, glancing between the two of them as he drops his bag on the floor. “Oh, hey.” Quieter, to Michael, Adam asks, “Who’s that?”

“Meg Masters,” she answers. “You know I can hear you, right?”

“Oh, like Bela’s Meg,” Adam says, caught up. She nods once, then finally gets up and smiles, completely fake, at Michael, raising one hand in a still goodbye and then walking out. Adam watches her go, commenting, “That was a little weird.”

“I don’t like her,” Michael declares.

Adam pulls his eyebrows together in question, taking Meg’s former place at his desk chair. “Why?”

“She was making the splinter on your desk worse, for one thing.”

“What?” Adam sits up and swivels himself over to check the splinter. “Aw, _dude_. I should get that guy who does woodwork to check that out.”

“And she’s rude,” Michael adds. He thinks leaving out the specifics like her implying Adam and he sleep together would be a good choice.

“A lot of people are rude,” Adam shrugs. “I think fashion people especially are because they’re used to getting stuff faster the more successful they are. You know, Mick gets annoyed if he doesn’t get his coffee within five minutes—”

Michael frowns. “That’s acceptable, though, it’s five minutes for _coffee—”_

Adam continues, “—and Kevin loses it when he doesn’t get any feedback on his work after ten—”

“Those fashion students do have an unfairly tight schedule—”

“—Bela goes mad if someone brings her the wrong pair of black Jimmy Choo’s with a buckle like there aren’t a million of those,” Adam says. When Michael tries to think of a defence to that, Adam finally adds the last nail in the coffin of Michael’s argument, “And according to Gabriel, Castiel goes on a rampage when he doesn’t get material samples in his hands within ten minutes of asking for them.”

Michael finally surrenders. “Now that’s ridiculous.”

“Everyone’s got their own version of rude and polite,” Adam says thoughtfully, glancing over at Michael. He adds after a moment, “So not cool of her to pick my splinter, though.”

**+**

Because exams are over, there are no classes until August ends, so Mick takes this opportunity to get him, Benny, and Michael together for drinks a bit more often than before. Michael had asked before if they should bring Adam along even just once because he felt bad about not inviting him when Adam tried to include Michael in his activities. Mick was concerned about how well Adam can hold liquor, though Michael’s pretty sure that he can if anything Adam’s said about his drunkard father holds any truth.

So, Michael asks him out with them, assuring Benny that if he and Adam don’t get along, Michael won’t force him to hang out with Adam again. Benny relents and allows Adam to follow them as Mick brings them to a dingy little bar a little way away from campus. He buys them some beer that night — something German that Michael won’t even try to pronounce.

Adam drinks his beer straight from the bottle, something Michael had expected but impresses Benny enough to challenge him to a chugging competition. They both go through two bottles before Mick calls it off, concerned about them returning to school so inebriated.

It is a pretty strong beer, though, because Mick happily splurges on good drinks, so two full bottles have Adam halfway out of his mind so Michael insists that he’ll walk him back to school and that he’ll see them tomorrow. Thank God Michael decided not to drink tonight or going back to campus will be hell.

Adam seems to be a happy yearning kind of drunk because he keeps talking about someone’s eyes and how he really wants to hold someone’s hand, though he’s obviously not drunk enough to let slip a name.

He manages to get Adam back onto campus and moves him into their dorm before Kevin or Inias see them, locking the door behind him in case Drunk Adam thinks about going back outside again.

“Benny’s really fun,” Adam says, giving Michael this stupid smile that he has to look away from. “Can I go with you guys next time?”

“I think Benny really likes you so why not?” Michael says, deciding that Adam should take the bottom bunk in his state, so he helps Adam get settled in his bed. “But I’m asking Mick to get you some crappier beer next time. The ones he gets are way too strong.”

“I _can_ hold my beer!” Adam insists. “Tonight was just a no-good night.”

“Okay, Adam,” Michael says, amused, and he turns away to find something he can leave by the bed if Adam decides at some point that he wants to throw up. He eventually just leaves their trash can by the bed’s side. “Get some rest.”

Adam nods lazily. “Hey, Michael. Do you have a crush on Benny?”

Michael almost trips over his chair. “Do I have a crush on _who_?”

“Benny,” Adam mumbles, rubbing his eyes and sitting up to look right at him. “There’s a reason why you were anxious about me and him meeting, right?”

Adam is not drunk enough for Michael to be comfortable with talking about emotions of any kind, but he indulges him with an answer, “I wasn’t nervous about what he’d think about you. I was nervous about what _you_ would think about _him_.”

Adam blinks blankly at the answer. “So you _don’t_ like Benny.”

“He’s not exactly my type,” Michael says, the corner of his lips lifting in slight amusement. “Why? You nervous?”

“No,” Adam says, sounding unconvincing.

“You’ve been talking about some mystery boy all night,” Michael points out, sitting down in his chair and wheeling himself over to the bedside. “Who is he?”

“Not telling you,” Adam mutters.

Michael frowns, pretending to be offended. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“You are.”

Michael narrows his eyes. “Does Kevin know who this guy is?”

Adam stares at him like he’s contemplating the option of lying, and then his answer is quiet—“Yep.” Michael throws his hands up in exasperation and Adam adds, “He was my best friend before you replaced him. Sorry, buddy.”

“Do I at least get a hint or do I have to settle for knowing how his eyes remind you of ‘leaves in the summer’ or that you think his hands ‘probably feel gentle, like feathers’?” Michael asks, sounding wistful as he quotes Adam’s earlier poetic talk on the way back.

A thoughtful moment tides over where Adam squints at Michael, as if trying to see through his drunken gaze, and he offers, “He likes Star Wars.”

Michael gives Adam an injured look. “Yeah, as if there’s anyone in existence who doesn’t like Star Wars.”

“Well, that’s all you’re fuckin’ getting from me,” Adam says, turning over to bury himself under Michael’s blanket, so Michael sighs and wishes him goodnight before toeing his shoes off. He leaves them by the door and climbs up the bunk ladder to get on top, pulling Adam’s blanket over his body, breathing in the unfamiliar cloth.

Adam smells like apples and clean sheets apparently. And he might be stealing Michael’s Hugo Boss cologne.

**+**

Meg turns up at Michael’s door three days later on Thursday.

“What do you want?” he asks flatly.

She sighs and claps once as if telling herself to get it over with, then says, “I’m rude.”

He stares at her. “I know that.”

Meg rolls her eyes and starts over, “Listen, Bel and I broke up a few months ago and just got back together in March, so I’m not excited to make her think I’m being rude to Castiel’s boy toy for no reason.”

”Castiel’s _what_?”

Meg grimaces. “Did _not_ mean that in the way it came out. I just mean that Cas apparently likes talking to you, and Bela loves him like a brother, and I like Bela, which means I need her to think I’m not being a bitch to you.”

Michael frowns at her, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms. “I won’t tell her if that’s what you’re concerned about. But you better stop calling me his boy toy.”

“I want to make it up to you,” she blurts out. “That Kevin kid told me you guys were looking for something to do together, right? I can get seven first-class tickets to NYC, weekend trip.”

Michael raises his eyebrows slightly, surprised by the gesture. “Seven first-class tickets to NYC on summer break? Bela must be really important to you.”

She bites her lower lip and glances down the hallway, folding her arms. “Look, this thing between us is just so on and off that I think if I even borderline fuck up, she’s gonna dump me for good, and you seem like a snitch.” Michael instantly narrows his eyes at her and she quickly amends, “I take that back, you do not look like a snitch. But seriously, help me out a little, yeah? I really like Bela.”

Adam did enjoy New York City when Michael brought him in March, so he would appreciate another trip to it. He’s sure the rest would like to go. Kevin’s girlfriend is going back to Michigan for the holidays but Charlie from fashion will definitely be happy to join them.

“Fine,” Michael says. “But you could just say sorry instead of buying first-class tickets.”

“It’s not that easy to just...” Meg makes a frustrated sound and Michael subconsciously realises he hasn’t apologised to anyone for anything in years. Maybe she did have a point on that, at least. “Look, I’ll book the flights for Saturday afternoon, we’ll be there by evening, back on campus by Monday morning, and then we put all that crap I said the first time away. Deal?”

“Deal,” Michael agrees.

**+**

The seven tickets include Meg and Michael, so the remaining five go to Adam, Mick, Kevin, Amelia and Charlie. Inias is too busy with personal projects, but Kevin promises to get him something from New York.

On the flight, Meg sits alone, Mick and Amelia huddle together to watch a full season of Sherlock, and Kevin and Adam have a whispering match which ends with him rushing to get the seat next to Charlie so Adam and Michael sit together in the end.

“What were you two talking about?” Michael asks once Adam settles into the empty space next to him.

“Nothing,” Adam lies. “He really wants to sit with Charlie.” Of course, unknown to Michael, Kevin and Adam were really talking about this — Kevin telling Adam that he had already asked Mick and Amelia to sit together for both flights and that he will be with Charlie in order to get Adam to sit with Michael. A sweet sentiment, sure, and not the first time they’ve been in a plane side-by-side for hours before, but for some reason, he’s nervous about it with most of their friends there (and one ‘rude’ woman, according to Michael).

“I did not know he liked Charlie enough to fight you for the seat,” Michael says, entertained.

Adam nods way too uncomfortably. “Neither did I.”

Thankfully enough for Adam, Michael has been awake for the past twenty hours because he’d gotten way too into studying astronomy so he’s out like a light by the time the plane’s in the air. Once he’s sure Michael is asleep, Adam leans over to Kevin and Charlie and hisses, “It was really cute of you to do this but you did _not_ have to!”

Kevin rolls his eyes and Charlie leans over from the window seat to look at Adam, her happy little grin spreading across his face as she says, “Come on, you look like some old married couple.”

Adam widens his eyes at her. “How?”

“He’s like the tired old husband who sleeps doing the newspaper crossword and you’re the one that’s like ‘stop snoring, you stink’,” Charlie jokes. Kevin points at her over his shoulder with his thumb, grinning like a child, and Adam sighs.

“So, first off,” Adam says. “He does not stink. He smells like a handsome English spy. Or like one of those expensive invite-only ballrooms.”

“So married,” Charlie says, trying to bite back a smile. “I love that I’m gonna see this up close.”

“Second—” Adam continues, ignoring her, though his unamused look instantly melts into a snicker. “—he did fall asleep doing the crossword once. Woke up with ‘DETROIT’ across his cheek. It was so funny, I had to help him get that off with a baby wipe—” He stops himself when he sees Kevin and Charlie’s shit-eating grins. “No. Stop that.”

“They are literally so marri—”

Adam carefully grabs the extra pillow under Michael’s seat without waking him up and throws it at Charlie and Kevin.

**+**

They split the hotel rooms among each other — Meg lives near a hotel, so she will simply go home, Charlie and Amelia are rooming together, Mick and Kevin, and then Adam and Michael. This time, it’s just out of being used to their roommates’ living habit and not Kevin and Charlie trying to matchmake them.

They leave their things in the hotel rooms and meet in the hallway, where Meg tells them, “I found us a party. Bela and Cas go there a lot. There’s booze and she opened a tab for us to use. Tonight’s on her, so let’s go crazy.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna drink,” Amelia says thoughtfully and Charlie and Kevin nod in agreement.

Adam turns to Michael, “I’m gonna show you I can hold my drink better than you.”

“Oh, really?” Michael grins. “Alright, tiger. I’ll hold you to that.”

“I have a very bad feeling about this suddenly,” Mick mutters to Amelia.

**+**

The party has one of the widest assortment of alcohol Michael has seen which says a lot, what with all the parties he’s attended with Chuck and Amara. There’s a lot of people there too so the boys make sure nobody touches Amelia or Charlie’s drinks, and Michael’s protectiveness has led to him simply dumping any beer that someone hands them and getting them a new cup. It even extended to Adam, where he absolutely refuses to let Adam drink anything from any cup that’s been grazed by someone outside their friend group.

“You’re ridiculous, Adam can take care of his drink,” Meg says, holding clear liquid that Michael thinks might be water, but by this point of the night, he’s beginning to get a little out of it.

“I know, I just—” Michael cuts himself off and dumps the rest of his beer right onto the floor and Meg stares at him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Michael mumbles, a dumb grin spreading across his face, “I made a waterfall.”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Meg mutters, tugging his arm as she navigates the crowd. Michael loses his red cup with all the pushing and she continues, “I get what Richardson said now. You two are perfect together.” Maybe it’s a bit sarcastic, but Michael doesn’t care.

Meg dumps him on the couch where Mick and Amelia are sitting. “Watch him.”

“Jesus, Michael,” Mick complains, putting down his own cup. “Are you and Adam really competing—”

Kevin hauls Adam over and he’s still drinking from his solo cup. “Guys, I think it’s time to call it a night.”

They manage to get the two drunk men out of the party and onto the street, the noise from the music still thundering in their ears now that it’s so contrastingly quiet out here. At some point, Adam stumbles out of Kevin’s hold and Michael grabs onto him to stop him from going too far. Adam has had way too much to drink, but so did he.

Michael laughs loudly, hands catching blindly onto Adam’s jacket as he tries to steady himself in his stupor. Everything feels funny — his fingers tingle where they graze over Adam’s skin and his cheeks are on fire. He knows his more sober friends are close behind with their arms halfway raised, ready to catch them if they fall.

They don’t even know that he’s already fallen. He doesn’t even really know it yet. He didn’t need to be drunk to fall, he had Adam. Somehow with a mind this foggy, he’d never been more clear.

Adam grabs Michael’s shirt and trips on the pavement, pulling him down with him as they land on the cobblestone in a fit of inebriated laughter. Michael rolls over to lie by Adam’s side and he can vaguely see Mick staring at him in disappointment but he can’t bring himself to care.

“ _Aaaand_ they’ve fallen,” Kevin mutters. “We should get out of the street.”

“Hey guys, check this out,” Adam says, looking up at them from the ground. “Michael, is it hot in here or what?” Michael pulls his shirt off twice as quickly as he nods, making Adam burst out laughing as Michael whoops loudly into the silent street.

Mick’s eyes widen and he runs over, saying, “It’s time to go back to the hotel. Hey, Michael. Is it cold in here or what?” Michael frowns and mumbles a quiet ‘yeah, it’s pretty cold’ before slowly tugging his shirt back on to Adam’s disappointment.

Michael toys with the hem of his shirt before he turns where he’s sitting to look at Adam, still lying on the pavement. He asks, “What are you looking at?”

“You,” Adam answers, tipsy edging on playful, and Michael leans forward with a grin. If he’s going to kiss him, Adam’s certainly not going to stop him.

Mick and Kevin send each other panicked looks and Mick heaves Michael up and away from Adam, declaring, “Alright, back to the hotel before anyone makes bad decisions!”

“What about that looks like a bad decision? That’s the _best_ decision the universe has ever made,” Adam says, appalled as he gestures at Michael who flashes him a bright smile before being guided away by Mick and Meg. He adds, smiling stupidly, “That’s a decision I wanna make.”

“Nobody is making _any_ decisions,” Amelia insists. “You are both too drunk. This was a bad idea.”

Charlie claps twice to get attention and asks, “We’re gonna keep these two separated because no drunk sex! Do we all agree?” Mick, Kevin and Amelia all agree, and Charlie continues, “Kevin, you watch Adam and Mick, you take Michael. If you two need help, you can ask me or Amelia, we’ll come right over to your rooms. Everyone okay with it?”

“I’ll stay with you guys tonight,” Meg offers. “It’s my fault they’re this drunk anyway.”

“They’re the ones who made the stupid competition,” Mick points out.

“You have the prettiest eyes ever,” Adam says hazily, booping the end of Michael’s nose. Mick gets Michael to stand and Adam frowns dramatically. “Bring Pretty Eyes back.”

Kevin and Charlie help Adam up and Kevin says, “Yeah, you’re not gonna see Pretty Eyes till morning. Come on, let’s go back to the hotel. Sleep sounds good, yeah?”

**+**

Getting to the hotel is easy enough, but Adam and Michael get surprisingly clingy when they’re drunk at the same time, so the separation was the hard part. Somehow, they manage, and Mick and Meg usher him into the room. Meg locks the door behind them and Michael looks around the room, pointing at the bed as he mumbles, “Is that mine?”

“Yes,” Mick answers, grabbing the empty trash can and rummaging to find a plastic bag. “Just sit down—”

Michael lies down on the bed and snaps straight into slumber.

Meg blinks blankly. “Did he just go to sleep?”

“So I guess Michael’s a tired drunk,” Mick says, stopping his search for the plastic. “I’m gonna go check on Adam, see if the others need any help.”

“I don’t think Adam needs four people handling him,” Meg says. “But I’ll watch Michael.”

“Thank you,” Mick says, ducking out of the room to the one Adam’s in. They’ve successfully gotten him to lie on the bed, shoes put aside and the trash can ready at the bedside.

Adam says, “I really want to kiss him.”

Mick points at Adam. “Is he talking about—”

“Michael,” Kevin whispers, nodding with a wide smile. “He will not stop talking about him.”

“His eyes are so green,” Adam says, suddenly propping himself up on his elbows to look at all four of them. “It’s like a really big forest, or green tea, or Oliver Queen—”

“Yeah, you’re losing us,” Amelia says, biting her lip as she grins.

“Duh, Green Arrow,” Charlie explains.

Mick sighs, “I wish Michael would do this, I’d pay good money to see it.”

Charlie asks, “Why, what’s he doing?”

“Where’s Mike—Where’s Michael?” Adam asks blearily.

Ignoring Adam as Amelia goes to talk to him, Mick answers, “Nothing. He went out like a light. He’s sleeping right now.”

“What the fuck,” Kevin gapes. “So did we separate them for nothing?”

“Nah, I think we made a good choice,” Amelia says, grabbing Adam’s phone from the bedside table. “Just in case he sends something weird to Michael.”

“Good call,” Mick says, looking back at Adam. “Alright, Kev, you’re staying with him tonight, right?”

They all glance at Adam who starts rambling, “Michael is so amazing, but you probably already know that. I bet his hands are really nice to hold. Do you think he’s the kind to kiss your hand? I think so. And I love his hair, I love the little Superman curl he has sometimes when he hasn’t done his hair in the morning. I like how rough his voice is when he wakes up, have you heard it? I love it, guys. Michael is so great—”

“Charlie, can you please keep me company?” Kevin instantly begs.

“You kidding me? I wouldn’t miss this yearning for the world,” Charlie says, throwing an arm around Kevin’s shoulder.

**+**

Morning comes, largely unwanted, and Michael blinks painfully against the sunlight that makes it through the cracks in the curtains. He groans and gets a dreadful feeling in him, reaching for the trash can for a moment before he ascertains that it’s just a false alarm. He sighs, running his hands through his hair, and then he looks back and sees Meg lying next to him in the bed, watching him with a raised eyebrow.

Michael stares at her, mouth opening and closing without a sound, and then slowly turns away. “I know I’m gay, but I also know I was extremely inebriated. Please assure me we did not do anything.”

Meg rolls her eyes and sits up, presenting her fully-clothed self as she says, “I’m gay too, we didn’t do anything, alright? I wasn’t drunk. Bel made me promise to stay sober last night.” She adds, impressed, “Using ‘inebriated’ while hungover? Alright, Thesaurus.” He groans loudly, falling back down into the bed next to Meg who says, “I did not think you would get that smashed.”

“It was unprecedented. If I said anything anomalous last night, I want to tell you that it’s unintentional,” Michael says.

“You’re using a lot of big words and it’s way too early for that Merriam-Webster type shit,” Meg complains.

“Something I have a tendency to do when hungover,” Michael mutters. “It’s extremely strange.”

Meg stares at him like he’s an alien. “Okay, where’s your reset button?”

“Where’s Adam?” Michael asks, ignoring her question.

“In the other room. You two were so out of it, we decided to break the work up. Mick was here earlier, he just left to get us all McDonald’s with Amelia,” Meg fills in. Michael nods, getting his phone to check for new texts.

There’s a few from Gabriel, photos from a model agency’s party he’d attended last night, including one of a male model captioned ‘If you want his number, I’ve got his green light to send it to you’. Michael ignores it and scrolls on. Amara texted him to tell him she’d left him some new brand merchandise in his room and that since he’s in New York, he might as well go get them before he goes back to Wisconsin.

“Ah, fuck,” Michael grumbles, getting up to take a shower. He really didn’t want to see his father.

He takes a quick shower and gets dressed in the clothes Mick had taken out of his bag and left out for him. Meg’s already gone by the time he comes out, and in her place is Adam, huddled under the blanket.

“How’d you sleep?” Michael asks.

“Stop shouting,” Adam grumbles. He peeks at him from where he is, seeing Michael pull out a pair of sunglasses and putting them on. “Sunglasses... you’re gonna go into the fucking sun. Where are you going?”

“Home,” Michael answers, checking his appearance in the mirror. Even with sunglasses hiding his eyes, he still looks like crap. He uses his fingers to comb through his hair in a futile attempt to fix it. “Amara got me some things and wants me to pick them up before we go back to campus.”

Adam sits up at that. “I’ll go with you.”

Michael looks at Adam’s condition—his hair is terribly messy, he’s obviously tired and he’s already squinting against what little morning light is in the room—and says, “You’re even more hungover than I am. You don’t have to come with me, just stay here.” At least the shower cleared his thesaurus habit.

“No, no. I’ll go,” Adam insists. “I just need to clean up. Please tell me you have another pair of sunglasses.”

“I think Mick has one, I’ll go check with Kevin. You can get ready here,” Michael says, leaving the room to get the other pair. Mick didn’t bring one but thankfully, Charlie does, so he borrows it and takes it back to his room. When he returns, Adam is looking in the mirror, trying to force a cowlick down to no avail.

Adam spots him and says, defeated, “My hair is being a bitch.”

“Come here,” Michael chuckles, getting some water from the sink and smoothing down Adam’s hair. It doesn’t go down but he says, “There. Gone. Let’s get going before the afternoon sun hits.”

“Oh God, the only thing worse than morning sun is afternoon sun,” Adam says, horrified. “You’re right. Let’s go now.”

**+**

Chuck isn’t that happy about Michael’s sudden drop-by but he doesn’t argue.

He lets Michael and Adam in without complaint, greeting them ‘good morning’ with a suspicious glint in his eyes as Michael quickly makes his way to his room to get the things Amara left for him.

Alone, Adam feels awkward, and wearing sunglasses indoors is just weird so he takes them off, something he instantly regrets now that there’s nothing between Chuck’s cold stare and his own hungover gaze.

“Sorry for coming by so early, sir,” Adam apologises weakly. “I’m Adam.”

“Why is he drunk?” Chuck asks, disregarding the introduction as he jerks his head towards the hallway Michael disappeared into. “Did he get you to drink?”

In an attempt to save Michael’s reputation, and because he was the one who issued the challenge in the first place, Adam tries, “No, he didn’t do anything like that. I was the one. I’m sorry.”

Chuck glowers at him, watches the way Adam shifts uncomfortably. He is too hungover to deal with Michael’s dad right now, and this is definitely not the way he imagined he’d meet Michael’s dad in the first place. He thought it’d be over a nice dinner, and he’d say something respectable like ‘Hello, my name is Adam Milligan, I’m studying to be a surgeon’, and his dad would like him.

Well, this is what Adam gets for wishing—he has to tell Chuck that he got his son drunk and hungover while trying to not let the window blind him.

“I see the way you look at him, even with those sunglasses,” Chuck says, and the disapproval in his voice is already making Adam feel sick. “Know that I don’t approve at all. As a friend or as more than that. What were you thinking, getting him this drunk that he has to wear shades indoors? That’s so irresponsible.”

Before Adam can think of a mature way to respond to that, Michael comes back out with a bag. “Alright, I got my things. I’ll see you sometime, Dad.” They leave after Chuck bids Michael goodbye, and Michael asks, “Did he talk to you? I heard some noise. What’d he say?”

“Just asked how was school,” Adam lies through his teeth.

Chuck’s objection to him sits deep in his gut all the way until they’re on their flight back to Wisconsin.


	6. Accommodation

**accommodation**  
 _noun  
_ the process of adapting or adjusting to someone.

August pulls away into September which means the lectures have since started back up much to Adam’s complete disappointment. Thought the break was full of good moments, it certainly pales in comparison to various boring four-hour lectures across the week.

Coming back from New York to Madison, Wisconsin, Meg had become their friend after she’d helped make sure Michael and Adam didn’t fuck anything up in their stupor. Adam had heard from Kevin that he’s apparently spent a long time talking about how amazing Michael is that even Charlie got tired of it, and assured him that Michael was asleep in a different room and heard none of it, to Adam’s relief. He had no recollection of the drunken night—once he hit his nth cup, it all began blurring together and his memory had blacked out by the time he left the party.

Michael remembers none of it either, and everyone else insists that nothing incriminating happened.

Adam still has Chuck’s words in his mind—the complete and utter disapproval he’d had because Adam took the blame for their hungover states. He doesn’t know if it’s something he should confide in Michael about.

Still, he knew he can count on opinions from his second closest friends—Kevin and Charlie. He’d considered asking Amelia about it since she’s the most sensible of their friend group (Mick was a close contender for the position but his relations to Arthur bumped him right off) but Kevin and Charlie are the one people in the friend group in a relationship right now so surely, their takes will be more useful.

Adam had texted them to come over as he and Michael walked into their dorm after their lecture for the day and while he watches Michael cross the dorm, his mind was already thinking about what he’ll tell Kevin and Charlie when they arrive at their room. They dump their bags on their respective chairs and Michael pulls off his jacket and shirt to switch them out for a Gucci sweater while he talks.

“—and even Andrew was completely lost when Asmodeus said that crap about...” Michael trails off, staring at Adam. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think I’m just tired. Asmodeus talks a lot,” Adam lies.

“Maybe you should take a nap,” Michael suggests. “I’m about to go out with Inias to get supplies anyway.”

“Nah, Kev and Charlie are coming over soon,” Adam dismisses. “I’ll be fine. What time are you coming back?”

Michael looks up at the ceiling in consideration. “Maybe a little over 8. Do you need me to get you anything while I’m out?”

A knock on the door sounds and Michael opens it to reveal Kevin and Charlie, glancing over Michael’s shoulder to give Adam curious stares.

“No, I’m good, I’ll get dinner myself,” Adam assures. “Have fun with Inias.”

“Bye, Michael,” Charlie says cheerily and Michael gives her a half-smile, waving once as he leaves to join up with Inias at his room. Once Michael is gone, Charlie goes in and Kevin closes the dorm door behind him. She sits down in Adam’s chair, letting Kevin take Michael’s while Adam settles on Michael’s bed. “Okay, kiddo. Spill.”

“Kiddo? You’re only a year older than me,” Adam points out.

“Shut up and tell us what was so important,” Charlie cuts over.

Adam rolls his eyes but goes into explaining, “So you guys remember that I went with Michael to get some stuff from his house when we were in New York, right?”

Kevin nods. “Yeah, I remember Charlie and I trying to keep your McDonald’s warm before we realised our hotel room had a microwave.”

“And I think you guys are sweet for that,” Adam says, biting back a smile, though he quickly schools his face into a less playful look. “Okay, but what I wanted to say is I met Michael’s dad.”

“Chuck Shurley!” Charlie gapes. “How is he like in real life?”

“He said he can see that I really like Michael,” Adam says. “And then he called me irresponsible for convincing him to get drunk with me at that party, so long story short, the dude hates me.”

Kevin and Charlie’s smiles fall and Kevin winces, saying, “That’s harsh. What did Michael say?”

“I didn’t tell him,” Adam says. “What would I even expect him to say? That Chuck’s an asshole to think I would be a shit boyfriend to him and that we’ll prove him wrong? You want us to fake date till we make it? That only happens in love stories and rom-coms, and I’m not living in either.”

A deep frown cuts through Charlie’s face. “Well, yeah, but that’s so rude. You should tell Michael about it.”

“No, Adam’s got a point. What would Michael do about that?” Kevin counters. “Like, what would Adam even say?” He deepens his voice a little to imitate Adam as he says, “Your dad hates the idea of me being your boyfriend because he thinks I’m not good enough for you.” Charlie rolls her eyes and Kevin continues in his regular voice, “Charles, come on. I know we wish it, but they’re not dating. Michael’s not gonna do shit about his father disapproving a non-existent relationship.”

Kevin’s argument is definitely stronger, but Charlie says, “Okay, but consider this—Michael _agreed_ to get drunk! Plus, didn’t you say he goes out drinking with Benny and Mick all the time anyway?”

“Yeah,” Adam affirms. “But I don’t think I’ll tell him.”

“That’s a good choice,” Kevin approves, to Charlie’s dismay.

She says, “Look, I’ll apply this to me, okay? Say my dad told Amelia that she would be a crappy girlfriend to me. I’d be offended! Why should my dad have a say in who would be good for me? You see my point, Adam? I know I haven’t spent a lot of time with Michael but I doubt he’s the type to let other people define his friendships for him, least of all his family, right?”

“That’s true,” Adam agrees reluctantly. He could honestly see that kind of conversation going two ways—Michael being all “well, we aren’t boyfriends so don’t let it get to you” or “why the hell does my father think he gets to choose who I want as a boyfriend?”—and he’s not sure he wants to risk finding out how either conversation would unfold, so he says, “But I won’t.”

“ _Still_?” Charlie asks in disbelief. “It can’t possibly go wrong, Adam.”

“According to online—you know, paparazzi and tabloids and stuff—Michael and Chuck don’t hang out very often anyway. If anything, Chuck’s opinion of you is unreliable. Why would it bother you so much?” Kevin asks.

“Because I’m used to being the kind of boyfriend parents _like_!” Adam answers. “You know, when I met my exes’ parents, they’d like me—I was the guy with big dreams and good grades who was gonna have a medical degree and work some high-paying job at, I don’t know, the fucking Mayo Clinic in Rochester.” He adds, a little quieter, “Even if I’m not actually his boyfriend, I guess that was just... I don’t know, it stings to have Michael’s dad tell me that.”

Kevin presses his lips together, leaning over to put his hand on Adam’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, man. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Look, we’ve known you for months now, we’ve seen how bad you’ve got it for him. You’d be Michael’s best hypothetical boyfriend.”

“You’d be the _best_ hypothetical boyfriend the universe has ever seen,” Charlie agrees. “Whether you tell Michael or not, we know you better than that asshole. You are the golden standard.”

Adam scrunches up his nose. “I don’t know about the _golden standard_ —”

“Adam Milligan, the golden standard of hypothetical boyfriends!” Kevin declares firmly. “You’re the fucker that waxes poetic about his stupidly handsome face—”

“Are you sure you’re not gonna start doing the same?” Charlie asks, amused.

“—and Michael’s the fucker that punched Arthur Ketch for you,” Kevin finishes. “Who cares what Chuck thinks, right?

“And Michael picked a middle name for me,” Adam says, suddenly recalling their arcade trip.

“Wait, that’s cute. What did he pick?” Charlie asks, grinning and leaning in with interest.

“My new name is...” Adam says, pausing for dramatic effect. “Adam Michael Milligan.”

Kevin groans loudly. “Dude, he might as well have just said he wants to have your last name.”

“So true but also shut up, Grouchy,” Charlie says. “Does Michael have a middle name?”

“Michael Dean Shurley,” Adam answers. “Look, and he won this for me in one of those claw machines.” Adam climbs up two rungs on the bunk ladder to retrieve the Han plush on his bed, holding it out to show them.

“You two are fucking _gone_ on each other. Jesus,” Kevin shakes his head. “Giving yourself a middle name over a plush toy.” He glances at his watch and says apologetically, “Listen, Charles and I have to go back to the workshop to get the coats we’re working on so we can’t stay any longer. You keep being the gold standard, lover boy.”

Adam gives him an unimpressed look. “I am not a golden standard.”

“Bye, kiddo,” Charlie says, hugging Adam before she and Kevin leave. After they’re gone, Adam essentially has nothing to do until Michael returns from shopping for supplies with Inias and Amelia is busy with her friends, so what better way to pass the time with than to sleep?

**+**

Michael returns closer to 7 and when he unlocks the dorm door, he’s greeted with darkness, a steady stream of pale moonlight coming through the thin slits of the blinds. He squints, eyes adjusting to the darkness— _how is it already this dark_ —and sees the outline of Adam under the duvet in the top bunk, rising and falling steadily in slumber.

He has a feeling Adam hasn’t eaten yet and he’ll definitely be hungry once he wakes up, so Michael puts down the new jacket he’d bought for himself on the back of his chair and leaves to go buy Adam a burger or two for dinner. He himself had barely eaten anything when he was with Inias, so perhaps he’ll get himself something too. Maybe Adam will want to watch a movie while they eat—

“Hey, are you Michael?”

Michael pauses and turns around, greeted by a blonde guy. He looks young, but definitely a couple of years older than him. He’s dressed in mailman uniform, holding a box in his hands. Michael nods, eyeing the package, “Yeah. Why?”

“Package for you,” the guy says. His nametag reads ‘ALFIE’. “It was delivered to the dorms but had no room number, I kept asking other students if they knew which room you were in, that’s why it took so long. Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” Michael assures, taking the package from Alfie. “Thank you.”

Alfie nods once and then tries to get out of the dorms as fast as he can—Michael guesses he’s not excited about getting caught on campus as a non-student, though he isn’t so sure if there’s even a consequence for that, at least at this school. He turns the box over and finds the name of the mailer.

Amara.

He tucks the box under his arm, leaving the dorm block to get the burgers for him and Adam—he got them some fries and a mini pizza just in case the burgers aren’t enough.

When he’s gotten them, he finds an empty spot in the main campus at a bench and puts the bags of food down next to him, placing the box in his lap as he opens it to reveal a black belted trench coat in his size with a label at the collar telling him that it’s by Dolce & Gabbana. Under the coat in the box is a Hallmark card with ‘happy birthday’ in cursive gold lettering on the front with art of a blue cupcake. He flips it open and a 50 dollar note falls out, and in black gel ink on the empty half of the card without a cheesy poem:

> _Hey kiddo!_
> 
> _Hope you enjoy the coat, I bought this one. It didn’t come free with a brand deal._
> 
> _If I’m mailing this, then I think you know that my brother doesn’t want you back again this year. I’m really sorry, I tried talking him round into us spending your birthday with you but he wouldn’t budge. Maybe next year, we’ll have better luck._
> 
> _But hey, you have Adam, right? He seems like a sweet kid. I hope your birthday will be better with him._
> 
> _Happy birthday, Michael. Try to enjoy it?_
> 
> _Amara_

Michael sighs—of course, Chuck didn’t want him home again. He didn’t expect anything different. Growing up, the date had haunted Chuck and Amara would just bring Michael out for the whole day. When he got older and understood, Michael will just keep himself busy, leaving the apartment before Chuck woke up and coming home early the next morning. He didn’t want to make things worse between him and his father.

He puts the card into the coat’s pocket and then dumps the empty box into a bin. He drapes the coat over his shoulder and gets moving back to the dorms.

When he returns to the dorm, he’s already feeling beaten down by the note. He’d had hope, even just a hint of it, that this year would be different after Chuck only had to see him twice for nine months. Yet, right there in black penning— _no, your father still despises you._

He opens the door and sees that this time, the light is on. It looks like Adam has just woken up, hair sticking up wildly and his mouth open in a lazy yawn as he scrolls through his phone. He looks up at the door and sends him a tired grin. “Hey, Michael. Welcome home.”

“You were sleeping so I got you dinner,” Michael says, raising the bag of fast food. “Burgers, fries and a pizza.”

Instantly, Adam snaps awake and he climbs down the bunk ladder, going to sniff the warm food. “Holy shit, you’re the best.”

“I sure am,” Michael jokes.

Adam looks over and finally notices the coat, asking, “Where’d you get that from?”

Not wanting Adam to know his birthday, Michael just lies, “Mick got it for me, he thought it would suit me.”

“Come on, try it on. Show me,” Adam says, stepping back slightly to get a full view of Michael’s body. Seeing no harm in it, Michael puts it on and holds his hands out in ‘ta-da’ fashion. Adam’s face splits into a delighted smile. “Hey, handsome.”

“Oh, stop it,” Michael says, though he’s smiling too despite himself. “Keep going.”

“It genuinely suits you,” Adam says, making a show of checking him out. “Mick’s definitely a fashion guy.”

Michael raises an eyebrow, grinning. “What, it took picking this coat for me for you to realise that? Not that suit he designed the other day?”

“Nope. This styling choice is the highlight of his career,” Adam replies, nodding. “Okay, hot stuff. Let’s eat dinner.” He rummages through the bag to get his burger as Michael takes the coat off. When Michael hangs it up in their closet, Adam asks, “Hey, you wanna watch a movie? I was thinking about watching Moulin Rouge today.”

“Yes!” Michael answers, almost a bit too excited about the decision, so he remedies with a calmer, “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

Adam chuckles, unwrapping his burger as Michael grabs the other one. “I knew you’d do that. Why do you like the movie so much?”

“What, don’t you?”

“I only saw it once a long time ago but I think I liked it,” Adam says. “I wanna know why you do. It seems like a movie that means something to you.”

Michael shrugs vaguely, looking down at his unwrapped burger. “I think it’s everything great about this world put into one movie, you know, what makes people, people. They’ve got friendship, determination, betrayal, secrecy, solidarity, cruelty, tragedy...” His eyes pull themselves up to meet Adam’s of their own accord. “...and love.”

Adam nods absently and for a moment, Michael thinks Adam’s gaze flickers to his lips before they go back to his eyes again. “You like it because it’s what humanity is.”

“And I suppose I relate to Christian,” Michael adds.

“In what way?” Adam asks, opening his laptop to put Moulin Rouge on.

Michael watches him type the movie title into his Netflix and answers with slight hesitation, “He never really knew what it was like to be in love.”

Adam pauses and turns to him, surprised. “You’ve never been in love?”

Almost embarrassed about it now that he’s said it out loud, Michael admits quietly, “No.”

“I’d think you would have. I mean, you’re a catch,” Adam says. Michael isn’t sure if Adam is trying to comfort him or what. “Wait, when you said you broke up with that guy because he wouldn’t move on—”

“It’s because he said he loved me and I didn’t feel the same.” Michael’s fingers tug at the short hairs at the back of his neck, feeling burning at the tips of his ears. “Can we just watch the movie, please?”

“Okay, yeah,” Adam nods, hitting play. “Do you think you’ll be like him, though?”

Again, his eyes slide back to Adam, and his answer is unconscious. “I really think I will be.”

**+**

Since Chuck doesn’t want him home for his birthday, Michael ends up free on the weekend with nothing to do. He’d planned to just go drinking with Benny and Mick again, or maybe he’ll just go out alone, take a drive around Wisconsin and buy some things for himself. Adam had plans to go back to Windom for the weekend to celebrate his birthday with his parents. Michael had a present picked out for him already but he figured he will just wait for Adam to get back from Minnesota to give it to him.

And then Adam throws him a curveball. “Hey, do you wanna come with me to Minnesota?”

“What?” Michael throws him a confused look at the sudden invite.

Adam tries to play it cool. “You know, since you said you don’t have anything to do this weekend and you brought me to New York, I thought that I could return the favour and take you to Minnesota.” He clears his throat and adds, “Plus, you’re my best friend and I’d really like to celebrate my birthday with you there, so. Will you come?”

Michael doesn’t know how to feel about the invite—on one hand, he did want to celebrate Adam’s birthday with him and he didn’t actually want to be alone this weekend but on the other, meeting parents is always weird with Michael. He’s not the kind of guy that parents approved of in any context.

Still, a flaw that Michael is quickly finding to be because of Adam, his body moves faster than his brain and he nods, saying, “I’ll go with you.”

Adam flashes him a smile, clearly excited. “Awesome. I’ll let my mom know to get the guest room ready for you.”

**+**

Windom isn’t a very big city, with a population of less than 5,000, just three radio stations and one weekly newspaper titled Cottonwood County Citizen. Apparently, they have two festivals but neither falls in September so there’s no chance of seeing either. Adam tells him the only attraction there that he thinks Michael would be remotely interested in is the state theatre, but Michael tells him he’ll be interested in anything Adam shows him while they’re there.

They pass by a florist on the walk to Adam’s house, and the thing about Michael is after years of growing up with his father and aunt in the professional world of kissing ass, he knows the most basic gift to get a stranger to get on their good side is flowers.

“What’s your mother’s favourite flower?” Michael asks, slowing down in his pace, and Adam gives him an amused smile.

“Michael Shurley, are you getting my mom _flowers_?” he teases.

“I want your parents to like me,” Michael confesses.

Adam’s smile becomes something endearing and fond, and he answers, “Zinnias. Me and my mom’s favourite.”

“Thank you,” Michael says, walking into the florist’s shop to get some flowers.

Adam cannot believe how sweet Michael is. Flowers for his mom? Kevin did have a point when he said Adam would say yes if Michael randomly proposed to him. He just can’t see a reality where his mom wouldn’t like Michael. Though, maybe John would be harder to get along with. Adam can already see them butting heads and arguing.

Michael comes back out with a bunch of zinnias flowers, wrapped at the stems with a beautiful golden bow, and they continue their way to his house.

**+**

“Hey, Mom.”

“Adam,” Kate greets cheerily, bringing him into a tight hug. She looks over Adam’s shoulder to see Michael, holding the zinnias awkwardly, and she withdraws from the embrace, pointing at the flowers. “Are those for me?”

“Yeah,” Michael says, holding them out to her. “Adam told me you both liked this flower best.”

Kate accepts the flowers with a sweet smile. “Thank you. Michael, right? The guest room is upstairs, next to Adam’s. He can show you to it. John’s still at work but he’ll be back this evening for the cake.”

“Alright, I’m gonna take him to his room now,” Adam says, giving Kate a quick kiss to her cheek before stepping past her into the house.

Kate smiles knowingly at Michael and he pauses. “Can I help you with anything, Mrs Milligan?”

“Kate’s perfectly fine,” she says. “How good are you at baking, Michael?”

“I don’t bake often but I did some decorating when I was young,” Michael answers. “I do help in the kitchen a lot, though.”

Kate grins—Michael can see the resemblance between her and Adam. “Perfect. Then you won’t mind helping me decorate the cake, right?”

He nods, following her into the house. “Of course, I will. I’ll just drop my things off in my room first. Thank you for getting it ready, by the way. I know I’m just a stranger but Adam asked me to come along and I couldn’t say no.”

“It’s fine! I really don’t mind,” Kate insists. “You know, Adam tells me about you from time to time. I’ve wanted to meet his best friend for a while now, so I was more than happy when he told me you were coming.”

 _He talks about me?_ The thought is more surprising than Michael would like to admit, but he doesn’t ask it. He says instead, “Hopefully, his father will feel the same.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. John can be a complete grinch sometimes,” Kate says apologetically. She stops at the stairs and says, “Come see me in the kitchen once you’re done with Adam.”

Adam’s bedroom is pretty spacious and houses a collection of figurines that definitely came from his childhood, a bookshelf full of comic volumes, some novels, medical books and a stack of cassettes and CDs, plus a radio. His walls have posters from various franchises—Star Wars, a poster for the 2008 Iron Man movie, a worn print-out of a panel from an old Spider-Man comic.

“It’s very you,” Michael comments.

“It’s really messy,” Adam rectifies. “The only reason why our room has any form of order is you.”

Michael smiles, taking the room in. “No, don’t downplay your effort. There wouldn’t be a mess to clean if it weren’t for you.”

Adam throws a pillow at him.

**+**

The kitchen is charming—it isn’t large, but it’s a comfortable size, and at least the appliances are good. Kate already had the cake done the day before, so she just needed Michael to help prepare frosting with her to decorate it while the cake is waiting in the fridge to have icing put on it.

“Is one of your parents a baker?” Kate asks, going through the cabinets to get a piping bag. “Since you said you did the decorating as a kid.”

“No, it’s just that my dad hosts business parties sometimes so I would help with the food,” Michael explains, working on melting the chocolate to make chocolate syrup. “I haven’t done this in a while. Hopefully, my skills aren’t sub-par.”

“Have you seen Adam baking?” Kate asks, pulling a horrified look. “He always, without fail, he'll forget an ingredient and the whole thing falls apart.”

Michael can’t help but chuckle. “I’m sure he’s not that bad.”

“There’s a reason he’s not studying to be a chef, honey,” Kate says and Michael laughs, shaking his head.

He finishes up the whipped cream and turns to get the colouring from Kate. “Do you always make a cake for his birthday?”

“Usually. If I don’t have time, I order one ahead of time,” she answers. “Do your parents do that?”

“Nah,” Michael says, trying to pass it off as nothing.

Offhandedly, Kate comments, “You don’t seem like the kind to bake a cake for their friends’ birthdays.” She comes over to check the colour of the green frosting, nodding approvingly and pointing at the piping bag. “Is it something your family does for birthdays?”

Michael gets a scooper to get the whipped cream into the piping bag as he answers, “My family doesn’t celebrate mine. I just thought there would be no harm in coming to Adam’s. He is my best friend, after all.”

Kate slows, frowning. “Everyone should have their birthdays celebrated. If your family won’t, we will. When is it?”

“It’s not important,” Michael assures, trying to make himself look busy with the piping bag. He can smell the chocolate as melts in a small pot over the stove. It smells really nice—Amara doesn’t know how to do anything in the kitchen and Chuck can’t bake, so he’s never had homemade cake in his life, much less one that required melted chocolate or whipped cream.

Kate smiles, warm. “Nonsense. When is it?”

Michael has never had someone who wanted to celebrate his birthday before, mainly because of the tragedy that came on the same day that tainted the date forever. It’s a foreign feeling to have Kate be so interested to know when it was. He’d gotten used to Chuck ignoring the day entirely and Amara just mailing him a branded item with a hallmark birthday card. He never had friends close enough who wanted to know—Adam did ask him multiple times when his birthday was, but Michael would always find a way to dodge the question, mainly because his birthday fell on:

“September 29th,” Michael confesses quietly.

They shared a birthday.

Her mouth falls open in pleasant surprise and she can’t help but laugh. “You and Adam...” The timer for the chocolate goes off with a sharp _ding!_ and she grins. “Oh, that’s _adorable_.” She moves to turn off the heat of the stove.

Michael asks, embarrassed, “Is there any chance that you won’t tell Adam about it? I came here to celebrate his birthday, I don’t really want to steal the limelight or anything.” He grabs the cooling rack for Kate to leave the pot to let the chocolate come down from the heat.

Kate scrunches her nose, a habit Michael’s seen repeatedly in Adam, and echoes, “Steal the limelight? You don’t have to worry about that. I know Adam will be delighted about this. My boy has never been the selfish type.”

Michael lifts a hand over the cake to feel the warmth radiating off of it. “It’s his day.”

“But it’s yours too,” Kate points out. “Can you get the cake out? You can start icing.”

Michael nods and opens the fridge door, getting out the cake and putting it down on the counter. He pipes the sides with basic patterns he already knew and once Kate approves, he goes to start on the writing at the top when Adam walks in.

“Dad called, he’s on his way back now, will be here in half an hour,” Adam fills in. He points to Michael. “Michael, the cake looks amazing. You didn’t tell me you can bake.”

“Your mom made the cake, I’m just decorating,” Michael clarifies.

Kate informs him happily, “Michael’s birthday is on September 29th.”

“We share a birthday?” Adam asks, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief. “Come on, add your name to the cake.”

Michael starts rejecting the notion, stepping away from the cake. “You don’t have to. Adam, it’s fine, really—”

Despite his protests, Adam takes the piping bag from his hands and writes with the icing: _HBD Adam & Michael_

”So which one of us is older?” Adam asks, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “I was born around 11 PM.”

”I was at 3:30 PM,” Michael returns, grinning. “Better luck next time, Milligan.”

**+**

John Winchester is a man of unlikable stature.

The moment he walks into the house, grease on his hands and oil stains on his shirt, instantly making a beeline to get a beer from the fridge, Michael decides that he doesn’t like John. It’s the moment when John sees him and asks “Who the hell is this kid?” that Michael thinks he may have found the one thing that taints the kind image of Minnesota.

“Michael,” Adam answers. “My best friend. Michael, this is my dad.”

“John Winchester,” he introduces. “Didn’t hear anything about you coming this weekend.”

“You don’t listen to me anyway,” Adam mutters under his breath, only for him and Michael to hear. Louder, he says, “Cake will be out soon so I’ll grab us plates and forks.”

Alone with John as he waits for Kate and Adam to bring the cake and utensils out, Michael is impatient. There is something so unbearable about the man. John asks, “What kind of kid are you?”

How the hell does he answer a question like that? What would be considered the right answer? Michael tries not to roll his eyes before he answers, “The kind that’s getting a medical degree.”

“What does your father do?”

What the hell is with the questioning, Michael almost asks, but he just sucks it up because this is Adam’s dad. He says, “He’s the CEO of a fashion magazine.”

“And your mom?”

“Dead,” Michael answers flatly. “Why are you interrogating me?”

John raises a hand defensively, and then Kate comes out with the cake as she starts singing the birthday song.

**+**

After he’s had enough cake, Michael steps outside to get some John-free air out on the front porch. He sits down, comfortable on the porch’s white wooden steps as he listens to the quiet evening noise of the street. The cake is delicious, something Kate was delighted to hear from Michael, and Adam had insisted that Michael wear one of those funny party hats.

He pulls the cardboard hat off of his head, holding the colourful cone in his hands before setting it down next to him.

“I don’t know why I never realised September 29th would be your birthday.”

Michael glances back to see Adam coming to sit next to Michael on the front porch steps. “Your parents named you Michael because it was Michaelmas, right?”

“My aunt named me that because of Michaelmas, yes,” Michael confirms the guess.

Adam looks at him with a curious expression. “Your aunt? What about your parents?”

Michael had never told anyone about his birth and his mother’s death from it, mostly because out loud, it seemed ridiculous to blame himself for her. Yet, he did, and so he’d tried to bury his emotions about it as best as he can, never confiding in anyone. He thought Adam should be no different.

But Adam is just so easy to talk to, so Michael interests himself with amber and golden leaves on the ground as he says quietly, “My mother died during my birth.” In the corner of his eye, Michael can see Adam stiffen slightly. “My father was too upset and didn’t want to give me a name. They didn’t decide on a name before, they thought a name would just come to them when I arrived. Amara stepped in and named me Michael because, well, you know already.”

“I’m so sorry,” Adam says regrettably. “If I knew, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Now you do.” Michael shrugs, still staring at the leaves shifting gently with the breeze.

Adam tries to find the right thing to say, something to make Michael feel even the slightest bit better, but nothing comes to mind. Instead, he just pats Michael’s knee once in some semblance of sympathy, leaving his hand there in silence.

Michael slips his hand under Adam’s and runs his thumb over the knuckles. Somehow, the act is comforting—Adam’s fingers are gentle under his own, like barely grazing the light feathers of a small bird.

If he could, Michael would stay here forever.

Still, he knows Adam will still try to get him to talk about his feelings and Michael doesn’t know how to do that, so he forces himself to pull his hand away from Adam’s and stands. “I got you a present.” He leaves Adam on the porch to go back into the house’s living room, finding his bag left by the door. He rummages through it, finding what he’s looking for before placing it behind him to hide it from Adam. When he goes back out, Adam meets him halfway at the porch steps, already on his way into the house to follow Michael. They stop at the porch, just outside the doorway.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Adam starts.

Michael ignores Adam’s light protests and takes his arm out from behind his back, revealing a baseball card signed by Miguel Sano. Michael recalled Adam mentioning that he liked the player, sometime around March if he wasn’t wrong. When he found out when Adam’s birthday was, Michael got Crowley’s help in finding people who can get him a signed card from the player. Thankfully, Crowley has a reputation for being well-connected, and he got the card for a bit over $100.

Adam’s mouth falls open as he takes the card, holding it so carefully that it’s almost like the card is made of brittle glass. “Oh my God. Miguel Sano. I love this guy.”

“I remember,” Michael smiles. Just seeing Adam being happy about the card is enough to lift his mood from the earlier moment. “Happy birthday, Adam.”

A wide grin spreads across Adam’s face, bright and sunny, and then there’s a second where it looks like Adam wants to hug him but stops himself. His half-lifted hand awkwardly finds a place on Michael’s shoulder. “Thank you so much, Michael. God, I’m... I’m speechless. This must have been expensive.”

Michael points out, “You do know who my family is, right?”

Adam smacks his arm lightly at his sass. “I know money’s not a problem for you. Well, if not money, then how did you get it?”

“I asked Crowley to connect me to some of his contacts who are more tied to athletes,” Michael answers, glancing up at the roof of the porch in thought. “He gave me the numbers of people who worked for sports fashion brands, and then some of them directed me to baseball teams they’ve collaborated with, and then I found Sano’s agent and paid around $120 for the card to be signed and mailed to me.”

Adam stares at him, wide-eyed and in awe. “You put in so much effort into getting a baseball card for me.”

“You’re my best friend,” Michael says as a way of explanation. “I’d do anything for you.”

“You’re literally the sweetest guy ever,” Adam grins. “How do you not have a boyfriend yet?”

Theatrically, Michael answers, looking into the distance, “I’m waiting for the right guy. You know it’s all about the right place and the right time.”

“What, you believe in that?” Adam asks.

“Yes,” Michael answers. It’s not so much believing in fate as believing that everything happens for the purpose of taking you exactly where you must end up. It’s true—sometimes, the best relationships don’t work out because they started it at the worst timing, and some bad ones last way too long because the timing was right. It was all about the right place and time to find the right person, at least in Michael’s opinion. Looking back at Adam, he asks, “Don’t you?”

Adam lifts a shoulder in a non-committal shrug, “I do.” Contemplating the question, Adam adds, “Have you experienced it before?”

“Right place, right time?”

“Yeah.”

Michael’s answer comes with no hesitation. “I think so.”

Adam raises his eyes to Michael’s, interested. “I thought you said you’ve never been in love before. Who changed your answer?”

The answer is just on the tip of Michael’s tongue. Maybe even right in front of him, if Michael dared to acknowledge it. Three simple letters that, if he said them out loud, would change everything between him and his best friend, and he’s not sure if it’ll be for better or worse.

So, instead of saying ‘you’, Michael throws Adam’s words back at him from the time he was drunk, “Well, that’s all you’re fucking getting from me.”

Adam narrows his eyes at him like he’s trying to remember where he’d heard that before. When the memory hits him, he scrunches his nose at Michael in annoyance. “Asshole.”

“I can always take the card back to Miguel Sano—”

“ _No_! Mine!” Adam quickly rejects, holding the card at an arm’s distance away from Michael, out of reach.

Michael laughs, eyes crinkling at the ends with endearment. “Fine, you get to keep it this time, Milligan.”

Adam smiles, looking at the card again before saying apologetically, “But I didn’t get you anything.”

“You didn’t know, it’s fine.”

Adam moves and picks up a bright red flower that had fallen on the ground. He tucks it in Michael’s dark hair on his ear, then picking an orange one to place in his own hair. “Take the flower as your present for now until I find something better.”

Chuckling, Michael nods. “Alright. Thank you for the flower, Adam.”

**+**

When it turns dark, Adam grabs a set of house keys and leaves. He’d fully intended to leave earlier, but he wanted Michael to not be aware of when he left and Michael doesn’t sleep early, so he had to wait for a chance. At some point around half past 8, Adam got worried that too many stores will be closed and he will find nothing, so he asks his mother to keep Michael distracted as he sneaks out to get a present.

Adam felt way too bad about not having a gift ready for Michael despite not having even known when his birthday was and now that he knew, he wanted to get him a gift before morning presents itself.

Unfortunately, some shops Adam wanted to hit have already closed by the time he gets there, but at least it narrows down his search, albeit also reducing his options. After venturing the streets for a while, he finds a watch shop that’s still open and decides that perhaps a pretty watch will make a good gift for Michael and that there’s no harm if he takes a quick look around. He crosses over and goes in.

He’d brought $120 with him, wanting to get something that was similar in price to the baseball card. It cuts down the options by a lot because most of the watches sail way over his budget. He’s stuck trying to decide between three watches when his thoughts are interrupted by an English accent asking, “Why do you have a flower in your hair?”

Adam’s gaze snaps up. “What flower?”

The man gestures to the side of Adam’s head and he reaches for his hair, feeling the petals and then remembering that he’d put flowers in his and Michael’s hair hours before. He’d forgotten that he hasn’t taken it out yet. Sheepishly, Adam explains, “I wanted to cheer my friend up so I put the flowers in our hair.”

“And now you’re looking for a watch,” the man says, amused.

“It’s his birthday but I didn’t know, so I wanted to get him a present and then give it to him in the morning,” Adam explains. “I thought about getting him a jacket because he really likes those, but his aunt already got him this expensive one from Dolce & Gabbana and I don’t think I can compete with that.”

The man pulls his eyebrows together in thought. “You don’t happen to be talking about Michael Shurley, do you?”

“I am,” Adam trails off. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Balthazar,” the man answers with an amicable smile. “I helped Amara with finding the coat and now you’re here to find him another gift. What a small world. Who are you?”

“Adam,” Adam answers. “So I take it you work in fashion?”

“Yes, I work for Castiel Novak. I’m just here on business, thought I’d come to get a new watch while I’m at it,” Balthazar replies. “Anyway, Michael is a good kid, I met him a few times before. If you want, I can help you pick a watch for him.”

Adam nods, pointing out three watches. “God, please. So I’m stuck between these three.”

Balthazar leans over to the displays to look over the watches before pointing to one of them. “This one. The Komono Magnus II. He’s not the extravagant type, so I imagine he’d appreciate a minimalistic design like this. I believe either the cobblestone or graphite designs will go well with his typical wardrobe.”

Adam nods along, agreeing. “Yeah, I think so too. Thanks, man.”

“No problem,” Balthazar smiles. “I hope he likes the watch.”

“Me too,” Adam says, settling on the graphite design.

Before he leaves to go to the other end of the shop, Balthazar grins and points out once more, “You still have a flower in your hair.”

“You know what? I kinda like it,” Adam smiles.

**+**

Michael shuffles out of the guest bathroom after washing up, the Minnesotan sun bright in the guest room where it spills like butter over the floor. He glances across the room and sees a small box on the bedside table that wasn’t there when he woke up. Frowning in confusion, he reaches out to grab it and takes off the card stuck on the lid, reading it:

> _M:_
> 
> _I know you said I didn’t have to get you anything but I don’t care._
> 
> _Happy birthday :)_
> 
> _A_

Michael opens up the box and sees a watch, the face of it telling him it’s from Komono Magnus. It’s black with a white minute hand, and it’s sleek and very much Michael’s style. He slips it on over his right wrist, adjusting the strap so it fits. It looks good—he can’t stop himself from smiling when he sees it.

“I hope you like it,” Adam says from the doorway.

“You kidding me? I love it,” Michael replies, looking at the watch again. “Thank you, Adam. Really.”

“Hey, you’re my best friend,” Adam grins. “Now let’s start packing. We gotta be back on campus before Monday morning.”


	7. Norepinephrine

_norepinephrine is a hormone that increases the heart rate._

Since the birthday in Minnesota, things have changed between Adam and Michael.

For one thing, Adam noticed that Michael has gotten closer to him in the sense that now, it’s become like clockwork that if they were sitting together while with friends, his hand would casually find a place on Adam’s knee, or his arm would hang over the back of Adam’s chair like it’s something he has always done. When they’re alone at the little picnic table under the tree at the main campus, they’ve started sitting on the same side instead of opposite one another. Alone in their dorm, one of the many different ways they sit is Adam resting his legs across Michael’s lap.

They treat it like it’s normal; like that is exactly what best friends do, and what they have always done. Adam remembered two girls from high school who acted just like this. He assures himself that this means nothing. Kevin, Amelia and Charlie say otherwise—Charlie tells Adam she only acts like this around girls she has a crush on, Amelia says she’d only ever been like this with her ex Sam, and Kevin says he barely even does this with Channing and he’s actually dating her. All of which, Adam quickly disregards, because he doesn’t dare get his hopes up even a little bit. It’d be too painful when it all comes crashing down.

Michael has gotten into the habit of wearing the watch Adam bought for him and it sits beautifully on his wrist with his dark wardrobe. The graphite was definitely the better choice—trusting Balthazar’s style choices is one of Adam’s better decisions in his life. Adam would know Michael’s wearing it—he wakes up one morning with that watch in front of him, a mug of coffee in Michael’s hand.

“Adam?” Michael whispers. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” Adam mumbles.

“Good morning.” Michael smiles, his face only lit by the beginnings of dawn streaming in through the blinds and the table lamp. “Kevin and Mick got a new coffeemaker for their dorm so I got us some. I thought you’d want to have it while it’s hot, but if you want to sleep a little bit more, then I’ll just make you a new cup later?”

“No, I’ll have it,” Adam says, shifting to sit up. His duvet follows him up, hanging on his shoulder, and he carefully takes the mug from Michael so he won’t spill it all over his bed. “Thank you.”

“Black with one sugar,” Michael says as Adam takes a warm sip. “I saw you order that once so I assume it’s how you regularly take your coffee.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe you remembered that,” Adam says, surprised. He can only recall one time when he’d ordered coffee in front of Michael and not just a cup he’d brought back to the dorm, and that happened months ago. Though, he too knows that Michael simply takes his coffee black.

Michael simply grins, an endearing thing that splits across his face so pleasantly that Adam can’t help but smile too. “Get up, Lazy.”

“But our lecture’s at like…” Adam considers his schedule for a moment. “Three. I should be allowed to sleep in.”

“I was going to ask if you would like to go for a walk with me before class. I need to pick up some stuff for Amelia, she isn’t feeling too good,” Michael explains.

“What do you mean? Is she sick?”

Michael lifts one shoulder up in a half-shrug. “You could say that.”

“Wait— _Oh_.” Adam realises what he means. “Okay, yeah. Give me a sec to change and finish my coffee.” He climbs down from the top bunk and Michael helps pick out clothes for him while he downs the rest of his coffee—a plain grey shirt, ripped jeans and one of Michael’s jackets. Adam points out in case Michael made a mistake, “That’s your jacket.”

Michael looks down at the jacket in his hands. “So?”

“You’re letting me wear that?” Adam asks.

Michael gives him an amused smile. “You have already worn some of my jackets a few times by now. I think, at this point, we might as well share.”

Adam takes the clothes from Michael gratefully and brings them to the bathroom to change—while Michael seems comfortable enough to change with Adam around, Adam doesn’t quite share his confidence. He pulls on the shirt and jeans, then he pauses as he holds up the jacket against himself. The label says that it’s from Belstaff, a black twill jacket. He probably got it as a gift from Amara.

He puts it on, and it smells like Michael and feels like an embrace. Suddenly, Adam is vividly conscious of how they’ve known each other for almost ten months and they’d never hugged once. He’d only known Kevin for a month before they began hugging each other.

Staring at himself in the mirror, he realises that, despite his attempts to not let it become so, it’s not just a stupid crush anymore. Maybe it’s something more real, more terrifying, than that. Something that will grip him tight and never let go.

Maybe, just _maybe_ , Adam loves Michael. In love with him, even.

It’s too much heavy thinking for 9 in the morning and Adam blames it on the coffee. Though he’s scared of what will be confirmed when he walks out, he takes a deep breath and leaves the bathroom.

“Amelia needs her stuff before her extra lecture at 11 so we should leave now,” Michael says before he turns away from the window to look at Adam. He smiles—Adam recalls how rare it was to see him smile back when they were just getting to know each other. Back then, Michael almost always wore a sombre expression, the melancholy in his life ever-present in his deep eyes.

Yet, here, his smile is easy, like he has always worn this. Like he doesn’t know what this smile does to Adam, the way it is beautiful, and the way Adam is in love with him.

Adam can hear his heart in his ears.

“Hey, good-looking,” Michael greets. “You should keep the jacket. It suits you.”

It comes out before Adam can think it through—“Didn’t you say one time that you didn’t even let your ex borrow your clothes?” The question gives Michael pause and for a moment, Adam thinks Michael is going to ask for the jacket back, but then he is surprised.

“Well, he’s him, and you’re you,” Michael replies. “I like it when you wear my clothes.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you a lot more than I liked him.” Michael shrugs. “And they look good on you.”

 _Do you think that we might have crossed the line between best friends and more than that?_ The question sits on the tip of Adam’s tongue, but he can’t find the courage to ask it. Instead, he stares at Michael like an idiot, and then Michael walks out of the dorm and Adam is left with the stupidly overwhelming awareness of the way his body feels in Michael’s jacket and the way his hands ache to hold his.

**+**

Discovering that he and Michael share a birthday is nothing short of amusing and adrenaline-inducing because the romantic in Adam is thinking if this is somehow fate because it being a coincidence that his roommate that he’s in love with shares his birthday is just too unbelievable. It feels like some _How I Met Your Mother_ type bullshit which has Adam semi-spiralling into the abyss of how many other ways have Michael and Adam’s lives crossed.

They were born barely eight hours apart from each other and they both decided to be med students, ended up in the exact same university and dorm room. Adam can’t help but wonder what else. When else have their lives been this close, how many times one of them made a different decision and delayed their meeting.

But he knew better than to go down that route of thinking because when something seems like it jumped straight out of a rom-com plot-line, then you know you’re absolutely kidding yourself. If it feels like it’s just within reach, it’s not.

Though, Charlie and Kevin lost their minds when they found out that Adam and Michael were both born on September 29th, which has Charlie ranting about how they must be soulmates, and then Adam has to stop her with, “No, because that kind of thing _doesn’t happen_.”

“Exactly, because that kind of thing _doesn’t happen_ ,” Charlie points out. “Adam, I think you’re in the middle of something great—”

“Oh God, now you’ve got her in her romantic speech mood,” Kevin says dreadfully.

Charlie continues like she didn’t hear Kevin, “—because birthday buddies are hard to find—”

Kevin frowns. “Who says 'birthday buddy'?”

“—and the guy you share a birthday with is your _crush_!” Charlie points out. “Let me make it even better for you. You said it’s on Michaelmas, right? You were literally born on your crush’s day. Think about that! Is that not being soulmates?”

“Not gonna lie to you, Charles. That’s a pretty solid point,” Kevin admits.

“Because it is!” Charlie stresses. “Listen to me, Adam, and not this single bitch—”

Kevin’s mouth falls open, appalled. “I have a girlfriend—”

“That you’re gonna break up with,” Charlie points out before returning to her point, “—you should just tell Michael how you feel already! The whole birthday thing is your big cosmic sign!” Charlie says.

“ _Or_ you’re just being a hopeless romantic,” Adam says, though he’s grinning. “There’s no such thing as a cosmic sign. The universe has better things to worry about than my love life.”

Charlie challenges, “Like?”

“Like,” Adam says, lifting his laptop. “My homework.”

“Lame,” Charlie mutters.

Kevin changes the conversation topic then. “Hey, Charles, you know how Prof Devereaux gave us that assignment about Gaga’s meat dress?”

Adam frowns. “Gaga’s meat dress? What kind of homework do you get?”

“We have to write an essay about it,” Charlie sighs. “How do I write like 1,500 words about a dress made of meat?”

“Simply don’t,” Kevin suggests unhelpfully.

**+**

Adam had left the dorm a while ago to go get lunch with Kevin and Inias—though Adam invited him and Michael did want to say yes, he had work to do and decided it was better for his sanity and Future Michael if he just said no and started on his assignments.

Amelia had texted him to let him know she had the notes he’d been desperately trying to get—Michael had even considered looking for his ex down the hall to ask if he had the notes but thank God Amelia pulled through.

He leaves his dorm to go to Amelia’s to get the notes from her until he sees a familiar face walking towards him, eyes glued to his phone as his fingers fly across the screen’s keyboard. “Castiel?”

Castiel looks up from his phone to connect the voice to a face, pausing in surprise. “Michael.”

Michael questions, “What are you doing here?”

“Vetting some works of potential hires. I’m waiting for Kevin Tran and Inias Garrison to get ready, but I’m supposed to meet with other students after. They’re some of the people who got past the second round of shortlisting. Pamela runs a tight algorithm so I employ the very best applicants,” Castiel explains. He pauses when he realises that he’s beginning to ramble, as if suddenly self-conscious about it. “Do you want to get lunch? My next meeting won’t be until two hours later.”

“I have to go get some notes from my friend and then start on a paper, so unless you don’t mind eating takeout in my dorm, then I think I’ll call a rain check,” Michael answers.

Castiel nods, accepting, “Then we’ll have takeout. I’ll order it to your room.” He stops in thought. “Which is...”

Michael points to his door. “This one, 522.”

“Then I’ll see you later,” Castiel promises. “I hope you don’t mind Japanese.”

“Japanese is fine.”

**+**

“Moulin Rouge,” Castiel notes, looking at the small poster hanging up next to Michael’s bed as he walks in with the takeout bag in his hands. “Good movie.”

Michael shifts to take Adam’s chair to free his own up for Castiel—somehow, it feels weird for other people to sit in his chair like they’re occupying space that doesn’t belong to them. “I know.”

Castiel passes him a burger and at Michael’s confused look, he explains, “I realise I don’t know what you like so I went for a safer option.” Michael accepts the burger with a ‘thank you’, and Castiel asks, “How’s school been?”

“Manageable. The workload’s fine as long as I keep on top of it,” Michael answers. “Adam makes it easier.”

“Your roommate, right?” Castiel questions. “Where is he?”

Michael takes a bite from his burger. “Out with friends.” Castiel points to his wardrobe with an inquisitive look like he’s asking for permission to go through it and Michael waves him off. As Castiel looks through Michael’s branded clothes, curious to see what labels he owns, Michael says, “I saw that you were getting pretty popular. How are you coping with that?”

“I’m not,” Castiel answers simply, taking one of his sweaters out and holding it out in front of him with a frown—it’s a hideous piece of apparel, with colours that just don’t match and poor tailoring. “What the hell is this?”

“Yeah, I hate that too. I never wear it,” Michael agrees.

Castiel flips the sweater around to read the label. When he sees the designer’s name, he rolls his eyes and puts it back in the wardrobe. “Dick Roman. Of course.”

“Not that I know the first thing about design, but his works just aren’t…”

“They’re crap,” Castiel says blatantly. “You don’t have to sugar-coat it. His ego is too big to be bruised.”

While Castiel continues looking at the branded apparel, Michael crushes the empty patty paper in his hands and brings the conversation back to—“What did you mean you weren’t coping?”

As a way of answering, Castiel takes out a box of smokes from his coat and shakes it, the sound of the cigarettes rapping mutely against the cardboard being a poor attempt at making this seem like it’s nothing. He tucks it back into his coat, holds up a hand to stop Michael from saying anything, and says, “I don’t need to hear you tell me it’s bad for me. I’ve heard enough from my brother and Bela.”

“I know we don’t talk often so my opinion’s worth shit, but I hope you get some support. From your brother or Bela, or a therapist. Just someone who can help you with the fame,” Michael says.

Castiel glances down at his Louboutins. “Thanks.”

As quickly as he’d deflected any attempt to discourage his new smoking habit, Castiel returns his attention to Michael’s wardrobe and takes out one of his jackets. Michael says, “Adam hates that one.”

Castiel looks almost grateful that Michael isn’t harping on the smoking—Michael’s sure that he’s already heard the ‘stop smoking’ talk from everyone he knows in New York at least once by now, he saw no point in repeating it again. Castiel looks over the jacket and says, “I don’t think it’s quite that bad. The cut’s clean, the colour choice… maybe it could stand to be two shades muter, but it’s not awful.” He holds it out in front of him and closes one eye, trying to position it over Michael to envision how he looks in it. “How do you know he hates it?”

“He scrunched his nose when I wore it once.”

Castiel half-smiles. “That’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it?”

“No, he always does that when he’s unimpressed,” Michael says, picturing the expression in his mind as he continues to talk about Adam, “When he likes the jacket, he just lets it wrap around him like a blanket. He loves when the sleeves are a bit longer so they go to his palms—” Michael holds up his hand to mime sweater paws. “—and he generally likes drawstring hoodies because he tends to fidget during long lectures so he can play with the string.”

Michael stops, self-conscious. “I’m rambling.”

A shadow of thought passes over Castiel’s face like he wants to ask Michael something, but there’s a hint of knowing in his eyes with a faint smile, though he chooses not to say anything. He returns the jacket to the wardrobe instead. “It’s fine. You must be close. Are you going to coordinate outfits on Halloween? I’m assuming you’ll be celebrating it.”

“Adam wants to,” Michael answers. “I’m not so sure about myself.”

“Not a fan of Halloween?”

Michael smiles absently. “Not a fan of being someone I’m not.”

Castiel picks up a pen from Michael’s angel pen holder and writes on a post-it—Adam and Michael had come up with the system of leaving a stack of post-its so they can leave messages for one another about anyone who came looking for them when they were gone, for telling the other if they’ll be out for a while and et cetera. Castiel writes down a shop name and address and holds it out to Michael, explaining, “There’s a costume shop in Madison if you change your mind, or if Adam needs to get a costume. They’re cheap and the quality isn’t too bad.”

“Thanks,” Michael says, accepting the note.

Castiel glances at his watch and sighs, shutting the wardrobe door as he says, “I have to go meet some other students now. I’m sorry, do you mind…”

“I’ll clean up.”

“Thank you,” Castiel says. He pauses at the doorway and looks at Adam’s bed, the duvet strewn messily off the edge onto the ladder and considers something.

Michael raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”

Finally, Castiel says, “I think you’ve found your Satine.”

He doesn’t give Michael any time to think of a response before he disappears down the hallway.

**+**

Halloween night draws closer and closer until, finally, some students decided to host a party at their dorms—three dorms with the actual party, and they gave out pumpkin stickers so rooms that will offer candy can stick them on the doors to be indicated. They wanted to give everyone a chance to trick-or-treat and party without worrying about having to make their way back to campus. Michael thought it was a nice sentiment.

Adam had been excited about the party all morning. Since the party was held on Saturday, most students spent all day getting their dorms ready for trick-or-treaters. Adam insisted that they take part in the Halloween festivities.

Michael really wanted to but he felt awful. Nothing really even happened—sometimes, Michael just gets sad with no actual explanation, and he felt bad about ruining Halloween with his shitty mood.

Adam did go to the costume shop Castiel recommended and got himself something that, while reminding Michael of Moulin Rouge, Adam insists that it’s a marching band outfit because he didn’t really like anything else in the shop. Obviously, he and Castiel have very different tastes in clothing.

When he realises Michael is huddled under his duvet, no costume in sight, he asks, “You’re really not coming?”

“I’m not feeling up to it,” Michael mumbles.

Adam glances out of their open door at some passing girls with coordinated outfits before he closes the door. He takes the pumpkin sticker off of the door and puts it down on his desk, asking Michael, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, Mike. You can tell me anything,” Adam says. It’s the first time Adam has ever called him that and for some reason, it aches in his chest.

Michael forces himself to sit up and look at Adam. “Seriously, nothing’s wrong. I just get like this. Go get some candy, go have fun. I’ll be fine here.” Adam looks completely unconvinced and Michael rolls his eyes. “Adam, it’s not your job to make me feel better.”

“It _is_ my job,” Adam frowns. “What can I do to help you? Dinner? Distraction?”

“None of the above.”

Adam presses his lips together in thought, then asks, looking down at his costume, “Does this really remind you of Moulin Rouge?”

Confused by the topic change but relieved for it, all the same, Michael nods.

“Alright, then…” Adam says, clearing his throat. “Now, I don’t normally do this for anyone so.”

Michael raises an eyebrow. “What are you going to do?”

“ _It’s a little bit funny_ ,” Adam sings suddenly. Michael looks over at him and a soft grin slowly grows on Adam’s gentle face. “ _This feeling inside._ ”

“Are you—”

“ _I’m not one of those who can easily hide_ ,” Adam continues, standing up while Michael is still sitting on his bed. “ _I don’t have much money but boy, if I did, I’d buy a big house where we both could live._ ” Michael huffs a laugh, quiet, and Adam takes it as his cue to go on singing, “ _If I was a sculptor, but then again, no, or a man who makes potions in a travelling show. Oh, I know it’s not much but it’s the best I can do. My gift is my song and this one’s for you._ ”

Adam steps closer and says, “Your turn, Christian.”

Michael denies, “I don’t sing.”

“But you _love_ Moulin Rouge!” Adam points out, still grinning, and Michael really can’t say no to that face.

“ _And you can tell everybody this is your song_ ,” Michael sings, just drinking in Adam’s beautiful smile to forget his nerves and pain. “ _It may be quite simple but now that it’s done, I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words how wonderful life is while you’re in the world._ ”

“There we go,” Adam laughs. “You sound great, Mike. I wish you sang more often.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m serious!” Adam insists.

Michael scoffs, shaking his head, but he can’t stop the smile from coming. “You’re serious about cheering me up.”

Adam schools his face into something more sombre. “I’m always serious.”

Michael sticks his face close to Adam’s like a challenge, leaving barely an inch between them. “Don’t lie to me, Milligan.”

Adam’s eyes drop to Michael’s mouth for a second. Michael doesn’t miss the way Adam’s throat works as he licks his own lips.

“I’m not lying,” Adam finally says, leaning back and away from him. He grabs the bag of candy that he and Kevin had gone out to buy earlier in the day and says, “I’ll go give these to Kev for the trick-or-treaters.”

Adam leaves to pass the bag to Kevin and Michael contemplates what just happened—he can’t forget the way Adam looked at him. It’s almost terrifying because it reminds Michael of his ex, the one that said he loved him.

But this time, Michael wasn’t scared for the same reason. Then, it was because he didn’t feel the same, hated the idea of commitment, and quite simply cannot stand the way he kept trying to steal his jackets. Yet, here, it’s scary because Michael didn’t feel terrified at all. It felt _normal_. He’d never felt like that before, wanting to reach out to someone yet knowing he should keep his hands to himself.

Letting his roommate borrow his jackets when none of his exes ever could. Giving them away _willingly_ , even, without him even asking. He’d accommodated Adam so readily that Michael thinks it’s shocking he never noticed it before. It’d been so easy to fit Adam into his life as if he’d always belonged. Like he’s had a space waiting for him all this time.

He’d truly never felt this before.

Is this what Castiel meant when he said he'd found his Satine?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The jacket Michael let Adam wear: https://www.ssense.com/en-us/men/product/belstaff/black-camber-jacket/5430421


	8. Anaesthetic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/ Sexuality crisis on Kevin's end, the second part of the chapter (with Novak Wears Prada being so sexuality-centric, it should make sense that a little bit of that trickles into Dorm 522. Also, in NWP, there's a part where Gabriel jokes about Kevin having a crush on Dean, here's where the dots connect for Kevin)

**anaesthetic**  
 _noun  
_ _a substance that makes you unable to feel pain._

Growing up, Adam always felt pretty alone.

He’d been an accident, something he’d come to terms with a long time ago—the fact that his mother had wanted to keep him, raised him with as much love as she had to offer and took him in stride helped so much—but it also didn’t mean that he didn’t feel like a burden on anyone he passed.

His father was the perfect example. While it’s no secret that John didn’t really want Kate to keep the baby, he wasn’t going to argue with her about it either. He still showed up for Adam every once in a while but he was mostly absent. He busied himself with work at the auto shop, preferring the sound of a sputtering engine than his son telling him about his day. There are countless birthdays and baseball games that John has missed and all were remedied with a half-hearted apology and a 5 dollar bill for some ice cream.

Yet, Adam made excuses for him—at least he had a dad, no matter how little he showed his face.

But it also means that he only really had his mom which isn’t so bad. She gave enough love for two, and she’d done a great job raising Adam mostly on her own. The only bad thing about it was that it left Adam feeling lonely. She worked the graveyard shift at the hospital and because John liked working late into the night at the shop, Adam would heat up leftovers and put himself to bed.

Back then, with kids so judgemental and close-minded, some avoided him because they thought it was funny that he had just a mom. Not like he wanted to be friends with kids like that anyway, it’s no big loss.

Even when he started making friends, he never was anyone’s first choice. At least, he didn’t feel like he was. It always seems like everyone else had more to offer than he did. He’d always put too much of himself out there and he always got hurt when his friends think he’s too much for them.

Kate tells him it’s a good thing that he’s so full of heart. Adam doesn’t see what she means.

With all that in mind, Adam had always wanted siblings. He thought it’d be great—they could play in the yard, and when they got too old for that, they could waste their hours at the arcade. When one of them got old enough for a driver’s license, maybe they could go on a road trip. It would have been fun and he wouldn’t have felt so lonely.

He’d have someone to tell about the crush he’d gotten on that boy from high school, the one who would always sit by him at assembly, the only time they would ever see each other. He would help his siblings with their own romantic troubles too if that’s what they want. And if they weren’t straight too, that’d be another thing to bond over.

All the possibilities missed ached in Adam’s chest. Though he’d made peace with not having any siblings since Kate thought having one son was enough, but it doesn’t hurt to wish.

Coming to university was certainly a pleasant change—friends were easier to find because now, everyone’s grown enough to not be bothered by things like family. They just find whoever feels comfortable and makes a space for them in their lives. Kevin, Mick, Amelia, Charlie, Inias and especially Michael, they’d all become such important parts of Adam’s life so quickly. He’s known them for almost a year and it’s in this year that he’s felt the most not alone he’s ever been.

Michael helps so much.

There has been a cavity in Adam, an empty space that’s always there, waiting. When he watched rom-coms with his mom, he always thought that space would be filled by some grand love story with big romantic gestures and decade-long pining.

What he didn’t expect was to feel that space be filled the moment the black-haired boy with verdant eyes tripped over his moving boxes and grabbed his arm to stop himself from falling.

Maybe it took some time but Adam, the more he got to know Michael, slowly accepted that this time, maybe being full of heart may be the right decision. Michael felt different, like he would handle Adam’s heart with care. He’d never let him down and tear him apart.

All Michael has tried to do since befriending him was keep him together and Adam didn’t feel so alone anymore. He had Michael now, and something tells him that he’ll be around for a long time.

Adam wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s in love.

**+**

Kevin looks like complete shit the next time Adam sees him half an hour before his afternoon lecture—the last time they saw one another was an hour before the Halloween party, dressed like Han Solo talking about how it’s a bummer that Channing hates Halloween but at least he gets free candy. Now, he looks like he’s seen a ghost. “I need to talk to you. Is Michael here?”

“No, he went to get something from Ames,” Adam answers, tone slow, his eyes carefully following Kevin as he walks into the dorm. “You okay, man? You look awful.”

“Something happened at the Halloween party,” Kevin says vaguely. Adam stares at him, willing him to elaborate, but Kevin just sighs loudly and sits down on Adam’s chair. He runs his hands over his thighs nervously. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

Adam nods, concerned as he takes a seat on Michael’s chair. “Yeah, of course. What happened?”

Kevin bites his lower lip, obviously nervous, and then he abruptly stands and says, “Never mind. It’s stupid.”

Adam reaches out, grabbing his arm. “Hey, wait. No, it’s not. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Kevin’s eyes dart all over Adam’s face, conflicted, and he fights with himself until finally, he admits quietly, “I kissed a boy.”

Adam pauses. “I thought you…”

“I thought I was straight too!” Kevin finishes the thought, pacing around the dorm.

Eyes widened, Adam trails off, “Well, actually, I was gonna say I thought you had a girlfriend, but—”

Kevin continues as if Adam didn't say anything, “But then your roommate’s hot and then I got a bit too drunk and things got out of hand.”

“Kev,” Adam calls softly. “ _Breathe._ ”

Kevin draws in a deep breath and sits back down on Michael’s bed. “Sorry.”

Adam insists, “You don’t have to apologise. It’s perfectly fine, alright? If it makes you feel better, I went through the same thing. I wasn’t always this secure in being gay. There are questions, there’s doubt, but I’ll be here for you, okay?”

“Thanks,” Kevin says brokenly. “I don’t even know what happened, man. I don’t know what my mom will think of me, what—”

“We will deal with all of that together. You always have me,” Adam says, trying to sound as assuring as possible. “If it turns out you aren’t straight, then cool. If you are and it was just a drunk thing, then cool. I’m here for you.”

“I am so lucky to have you,” Kevin exhales, leaning in for a hug. “Jesus, I’m a mess.”

Adam hugs back but frowns. “Stop it. You’re not a mess.”

Kevin manages a half-hearted chuckle as he says, “I’m a little bit a mess.” Adam huffs a laugh and Kevin sobers up when he asks, “I’ve gotta tell Channing, right?”

“She’s your girlfriend. I think you have to,” Adam replies, pulling away from the hug to look at Kevin.

“She’s so gonna break up with me,” Kevin cracks a joke, trying to ease his nerves.

“Well, she wants to go to London and you wanna go to New York, anyway,” Adam says. Kevin nods, seeing his point. It’s always been a relationship that was bound to break at some point, they had just been putting it off.

“Thanks for talking to me,” Kevin says gratefully. “I already feel a little better.”

“Any time,” Adam grins. “You’re my friend.”

“I’d say you’re my _best_ friend but something tells me someone else took my position already,” Kevin says good-naturedly. Adam is about to deny it and Kevin cuts in, “You don’t have to lie. I’m happy about it, really. You deserve a best friend who loves you more than anyone else.”

“I love you too, you know,” Adam says, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kevin mumbles. “Save it for the wedding.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “You’re a catch but I’m not gonna marry you.”

Kevin finally breaks into a genuine grin. “I know. 10 bucks say you marry Michael.”

Pulling the most appalled look he has, Adam says, “Oh, come on. Five minutes ago, you were panicking about the Halloween party and now you’re placing bets on my love life?”

“I need a distraction,” Kevin says. “So? 10 bucks—you’ll marry Michael.”

“10 bucks says I won’t,” Adam replies. Kevin takes his hand and shakes it once, firm, with an amused smile on his face. “Don’t give me that smile. You know he’s out of my league.”

“The fuck? No, he isn’t. You’re perfectly in his league,” Kevin encourages.

Dramatically fanning himself, Adam says, “Kevin Tran, that may have been the nicest thing you have ever said to me.”

Scoffing, Kevin says, “Alright. 10 bucks. I expect to win it back in a couple of years.”

“You got yourself a deal,” Adam agrees. “Now that that’s over, you want me to cut class? I’ll keep you distracted.”

Kevin frowns. “Not that I don’t wanna cut class but don’t you have an important lecture or something today?”

Adam dismisses him, saying, “Michael won’t mind taking notes for me. Come on, let’s go.”

**+**

Michael agreed to help Adam take notes during that day’s lecture so he and Kevin skip their respective classes to go to town. He’d been concerned and asked if there’s anything wrong with Kevin that he can help with. Adam tells him it’s better if it’s just him and Kevin and Michael didn’t push. It’s something Adam always liked about him—he respected boundaries.

Today’s lecture was supposed to be about the circulatory system, getting to know the veins more intricately. A part of Adam was excited about it but Kevin was more important than a bunch of vein names and functions. Michael will teach him after he comes back anyway.

“Thanks for doing this,” Kevin says once they come out of the bookstore, each boy with a new book in their hand. Adam had gotten Angelology by Danielle Trussoni—it’s about Nephilim, a hybrid of humans and angels. He thought it would be interesting to read and perhaps something Michael would like too. Kevin himself bought How To Live Safely In A Science Fictional Universe by Charles Yu, about some lonely time machine repairman.

“No problem. You know, classes and assignments have been kicking my ass lately so I’m happy to skip for a day,” Adam replies. “Plus, I got a new book to read.”

“Angelology,” Kevin reads out the title on the cover. “Didn’t know you were interested in that kind of thing. You’re religious?”

Adam shakes his head. “No, I just thought it was a creative premise.”

“Who even says ‘premise’ like a day-to-day word? Michael’s vocabulary is rubbing off on you,” Kevin jokes.

“Shut up, loser.”

“Ouch,” Kevin says painfully, hand clinging onto his chest over where his heart is. “Adam, you break my heart.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Adam grins. Before he can go on, his phone rings and he holds up a finger to tell Kevin to wait. The caller ID tells him that it’s John calling him and for a moment, he considers letting it go to voicemail, but John never calls him unless it’s something important.

“I’ll give you a minute,” Kevin says, stopping a distance from Adam to give him privacy. Adam nods once in silent gratitude and picks up.

“Hey, Dad,” Adam says. “Is something wrong?”

“ _No, nothing’s wrong_ ,” John answers. Somehow, it just seems like something is seriously wrong now despite what John said. He’d never been the most reassuring person.

Adam presses his lips together and glances back at Kevin who has busied himself with his book. “Okay, then why are you calling me?”

“ _You see, I’ve been grappling with how to tell you for a while and Kate thought I should just come out with it_ ,” John starts.

Anticipation and anxiety make Adam interrupt, “Dad, what is it?”

“ _You have two brothers_ ,” John finally blurts out.

Adam slows down. “I have what?”

“ _Two brothers in Kansas_ ,” John clarifies. “ _Sam and Dean. I think they’re living with Bobby right now._ ”

“Sorry, you _think_?” Adam echoes, dread twisting his guts so harshly that he feels like he might throw up. “Why don’t you know where they are?”

After a long moment of contemplative silence, John admits, “ _I left them there after Mary died. I haven’t been back in a while._ ”

“Oh, fucking _great_ ,” Adam mutters, leaning against the wall. A woman walking by lifts a thumb as if asking if he’s alright and Adam gives her a strained smile. She nods slowly and walks off, still looking at him in concern, and Adam returns to the call. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“ _Well, you’re already 20. Kate convinced me to tell you, said I’ve put it off too long and that you were old enough to know._ ”

So his mom knew. Adam didn’t necessarily blame her—it was John’s news to tell, after all, and from the sound of it, it seems like Kate’s been trying to get John to tell him for a while now. At least this time, she succeeded.

“ _Adam? You still there?_ ”

“I’m not coming back for Christmas,” Adam says decisively. “I really don’t wanna see you. You _left_ them there on their own? _Jesus_.”

“ _Adam, wait—_ ” Before John can say anything else, Adam hangs up and scrubs a hand down his face, trying to school his expression into something less concerning before he goes back to Kevin.

When he said he wanted siblings, this wasn’t what he had in mind.

Kevin sees his face and instantly frowns. “What happened? Is your mom okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Adam says. “Look, uh, I know I said we’d be in town all day but I really don’t feel too good. Can we head back to campus?”

“Of course,” Kevin says, and the two turn on their heels to go back to school.

Thankfully, Kevin knows him well enough to be aware if Adam is in a talking mood or not and leaves him alone, only looping his arm around Adam’s in comfort and as guidance since he’s reading while walking. Adam accepts the physical comfort but is lost in his thoughts as they walk back to campus.

It’s actually amazing in a twisted way how a phone call that took less than a minute could turn over Adam’s life like that. Twenty years of memories now tainted with the newly-discovered fact that there were two boys in Kansas who could have had his life if he didn’t make their father have a detour.

“Hey, the school’s that way,” Kevin suddenly says, breaking Adam out of his trance. “Dude, seriously. Are you okay? That call really shook you up, what’s wrong?”

“I’ll be fine,” Adam lies. “Sorry, I was just daydreaming.”

Unconvinced, Kevin is still aware that Adam doesn’t talk when he doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t try to pull an answer out of him. Maybe he can find Michael later and ask him to talk to Adam. Michael would probably have an easier time getting an answer from Adam than he would anyway.

When they get back to the dorms, Kevin leaves him to catch up on that afternoon’s classes with Inias and Michael isn’t back yet—probably out getting dinner with Mick and Benny—so Adam catches some sleep and wishes he didn’t have to wake up and face his problem again.

**+**

On Christmas, barely two days after the phone call from John, Adam had no idea what to do with the holiday. He always spent it with his family and while he wanted to see his mom again, the idea of celebrating Christmas with his family without his brothers seems wrong to him, like a bitter taste he can’t get out of his mouth.

He wakes up that morning feeling cold—seems like the snow got heavier overnight. White snow seals their window shut and Michael seems to still have the small heater in their room that he claimed he borrowed from Meg’s roommate last night. Michael is shirtless in red board shorts, though he has wrapped his blanket around him like a burrito.

“Good morning,” Michael greets, just like clockwork. “And Merry Christmas.”

“Morning,” Adam returns, climbing down from his bunk. “If you’re cold, why didn’t you get dressed?”

“I’m tired,” Michael answers, looking away so he wouldn’t have to explain. Adam has a feeling it’s about Chuck again and he knows Michael wouldn’t want to talk about that so he doesn’t, instead, he goes to the bathroom to wash up.

Once Adam comes back out, dressed, Michael asks, “You’re not going back home for Christmas?”

Adam mumbles, “Nah. Not feeling up to it. But you aren’t?”

Michael gives him a sad smile, “I guess we’re both not up to it.” He reaches under the table and gets out a bottle of champagne, saying, “Mick gave this to me as a Christmas present. Do you want to share it with me? Honestly, I don’t really want to be alone this Christmas.”

Softly, Adam says, “Yeah. We don’t have any glasses, though.”

“We could share the bottle or I can go ask around for some wine glasses,” Michael offers.

“Sharing’s fine,” Adam says quickly.

Michael nods, grinning. “Alright.” He opens the champagne, the cork making a loud ‘pop’ sound as he gets it out of the mouth of the bottle. He drinks from it first when Adam gestures to him to go ahead. Michael takes a swig and half-smiles at the taste once he offers the bottle to Adam.

Adam takes it, sipping from it to get a taste. He’s never had champagne before—John can only afford cheap beer that burns as it goes down your throat. He never had friends like Mick or Michael who could buy expensive drinks.

It tastes like Michael, something sweet and grounding. Coupled with the fact that Michael’s lips were on the bottle before his own, Adam’s heart skips in his chest.

For even just a second, Adam forgets about his trouble.

“Do you like it?” Michael asks, taking the bottle back to read the label.

“Yeah,” Adam says. “First time.”

“Then I’m glad you like it,” Michael smiles. He moves in his chair, using the tip of his toes to get the wheels to roll over to his bag. Rummaging through it, his hand reemerges with a small box. “Your Christmas gift.”

Adam takes it from him. “You didn’t have to. Your birthday gift has you set for life.”

“I wanted to,” Michael replies. “Go on, open it.”

Adam tears through the wrapping which is just the page with the crosswords from last week’s newspaper and gets to the present—a disposable camera.

“When we went to New York, you said you were interested in photography,” Michael explains.

“Michael, this is amazing. Thank you,” Adam says, starting up the camera. Grinning, he holds it up to Michael and says, “Smile.”

Humouring him, Michael does, flashing a winning smile at Adam’s new camera as it clicks. “Don’t waste the film, you only have 27 photos to spare.”

“If I want 27 photos of you then I have the right,” Adam replies, turning his nose up at Michael and making him laugh. He snaps another photo.

“I wasn’t ready.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “You look good, relax.”

Michael pulls the blanket tighter around himself, giving Adam a frown. Adam takes one more picture of him before he puts the camera down for good, moving to retrieve something from his own bag. “I got you something too.”

Michael takes it from him and carefully undoes the wrapping, some blue paper Kevin had snuck him from the fashion workshop. When he finally gets to the gift—a bunch of cassette tapes—he smiles. “Cassettes?”

“Yeah, because you have a Walkman but no cassettes. I thought I would give you some so it wouldn’t just be collecting dust,” Adam says. Michael raises an eyebrow at ‘give’, so Adam admits, “I asked my mom to mail me some of my cassettes. I remembered which albums you said you liked and whatever ones I had, I gave, and the ones I didn’t, I bought online.”

“Thank you,” Michael says, tracing the edges of the cassette of Queen’s _The Works_ album. He remembered seeing it in Adam’s room, one of the cassettes at the top of the stack. “You didn’t have to give me your own.”

“I don’t have a Walkman to listen to them anyway,” Adam dismisses. “Hey, it’s like we completed each other. Your Walkman, my cassettes. Some great fucking music.”

Michael smiles, something so gentle that Adam feels like the whole world is only them, if only for the minute, and says, “You didn’t have to give me cassettes for me to know that we’re great together.”

Adam’s heart falters, and he says nothing.

+

Michael has noticed something with Adam since he came back from going out with Kevin. He always seemed to be troubled but when Michael asks, Adam would lie and slap on a fake smile. He hasn’t seen Adam be this upset since the Arthur debacle months ago. Even then, it was a different kind of upset. Michael hated seeing Adam so unhappy. It seems like it’s not right for the human embodiment of sunshine to feel like crap.

Michael catches Kevin in the hallway outside the lecture halls, grabbing his arm and pulling him aside so they won’t be blocking anyone. Kevin’s eyes drop to Michael’s hand on his arm in questioning and Michael asks, “Do you know what’s bothering Adam?”

“Oh, yeah. I wanted to talk to you about that,” Kevin recalls. He shakes his head, frowning. “No. I’ve been trying to ask him but he won’t tell me. I thought that maybe he would tell you since you guys are so close.”

“No luck on my end,” Michael says, releasing Kevin’s arm to fold them in thought. “You know he skipped lunch today? I think something happened with his family, he’s been like this since Christmas after he and his dad talked on the phone.”

“The elder Winchester’s never been much of a mood-lifter,” Kevin mumbles. He raps his fingers on the stack of sketchbooks in his hands before he suggests, “Why not you take him out for dinner or something, try to distract him? Maybe he’ll tell you when he doesn’t have stress about classes riding on his back.”

“Good idea. Thanks, Kevin,” Michael replies. He pauses, considering Kevin for a moment, then asks, “You’ve been looking pretty upset too. Are you okay?”

Kevin looks resigned. “Man, is it really that obvious?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just some personal stuff. It’s nothing, I’ll be over it in a while,” Kevin says. It strikes Michael like a lie, but if he doesn’t want to tell him yet then there really doesn’t seem like there’s a point in pushing.

Michael says instead, “Well, if you need to talk, I’m not sure how much help I can be but I will certainly listen.”

“Thanks,” Kevin says, offering a fake smile. “Let me know how it goes with Adam, yeah?”

“I will,” Michael promises.

**+**

Amelia agreed with Michael about Adam’s deteriorating mood being concerning so she told him she would take down notes for them in their shared lecture that week to give Michael the chance to cut class with Adam and find out what exactly is bothering him.

Adam grudgingly picks up his bag and reaches for his laptop until Michael stops him. “We’re not going to class.”

He gives him a strange look. “We’re not?”

“Nope. We’re gonna have dinner,” Michael says, gently taking Adam’s bag out of his hand and putting it back down on the floor where he’d picked it up from. “Amelia said she’d help us take notes so we’ve got the evening free.”

“You’re such a bad influence,” Adam jokes, though he does put his laptop back down. “What did you have in mind?”

**+**

Michael finds a baseball-themed diner in town that’s newly opened, with signed memorabilia displayed all around it. There doesn’t seem to be too many people and they were able to get a booth by the window. They order a pizza to share, a plate of fries, and Michael gets a slice of chocolate cake while Adam gets a burger.

“Hey, Babe Ruth,” Adam notes when he notices one of the baseballs.

Michael asks, smiling, “You like Babe Ruth?”

“My favourite player,” Adam explains, and then he doesn’t elaborate any further.

Dinner itself is mostly quiet which is more than enough proof that something’s wrong because Adam likes talking while eating with friends.

Trying to get the ball rolling, Michael starts, “Do you have any plans for New Year’s Day?”

“Not really,” Adam mumbles, taking a bite of his burger.

Stunted by the short answer, Michael looks for a new conversation topic that would warrant a longer conversation. Eventually, he comes up with, “Do you think you got a good grade on the paper?”

“What, the one Asmodeus gave us?”

“Yes.”

Adam shrugs. “Maybe. I tried but he’s a strict marker.”

Silence settles between them again and Michael decides that he will try again after they’re done eating. Adam eats slow, probably already knowing Michael’s plan to talk after dinner, which leaves Michael waiting patiently for him to finish.

When Adam’s done with his half of the food, it’s already a little dark out so they have a silent agreement to just go back to campus.

They cross over to the other side of the road and once they’re on the sidewalk, Michael says, “Adam, you’ve been in a bad mood and I want to help. Will you tell me what’s wrong? We’re all concerned about you. You’re eating less and I noticed that you sleep later than you usually do. You don’t smile as much anymore.”

Adam stops in his walking, leaving a distance between him and Michael that seems unnatural. “Mike, it’s fine.”

Unbelieving, Michael tries again. “Adam, I won’t judge you or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. You can tell me—”

“Nothing! It’s not your problem,” Adam finally snaps, more out of frustration at the situation than any true impatience or annoyance towards Michael. It does make Michael freeze though, and by then, Adam’s already jumped on the train of anger and can’t jump off the track. He keeps going, listening to the words spill out like a landslide. “Michael, seriously, just leave me alone. It’s not your fucking job to know what’s wrong with me or to cheer me up.”

Michael watches him and Adam can see that look in his eyes, the one where he’s trying to figure out exactly the right words to say to fix this and Adam feels like crap because Michael didn’t do anything wrong at all. It isn’t his fault that Adam is exhausted and wound up about his brothers and his piece of shit dad.

It begins to rain, and Adam watches as Michael’s styled hair starts to get drenched.

He exhales sharply as if trying to expel every trace of anger in his body, but it just makes it worse, and Adam mutters a broken “just leave me alone” before he turns around, walking off.

“Wait,” Michael calls out, walking quickly to catch up with him, and shrugs off his jacket to drape it over Adam’s shoulders. “Don’t get cold.”

The reasonable thing to do is say thank you and just apologise, say he should not have said all that, maybe even try to shelter them both with the jacket and run back to the dorm together before they both catch a cold. They could get the borrowed heater running and get warm, put this one-sided fight behind them.

Adam’s too riled up so, instead, he mumbles an almost-incoherent “thank you” and leaves Michael behind, walking wherever his legs will bring him.

**+**

Michael stands in the rain as Adam leaves with his jacket held over his head and he can feel the rain soak his shirt so he ducks under the tarp of a coffee shop, trying to figure out what to do next. Adam likely isn’t heading back to the dorm so soon, so perhaps he should head back first. There doesn’t seem to be a point in going after Adam when he’s so angry.

Yet, even with Adam’s spiteful words, Michael knew he didn’t mean any of it. He’s met plenty of people in his life, which means he’s learned how people act in different situations. Even if Michael himself is generally level-headed, he can tell Adam leads his life with his heart, so it’s no surprise that if he was upset, it’d come spilling out like that. With Chuck as his father, he’s had much more hurtful words said to him than Adam telling him to leave him alone.

Plus, Adam took his jacket instead of giving it back. That’s a good sign.

Michael glances at the other side the road, trying to think of the fastest way to get back to the dorm before he gets completely soaked, and his eyes land on the baseball-themed diner they ate at earlier, the one with the baseball signed by Babe Ruth displayed by their table.

Michael looks out for oncoming cars and then crosses the road, walking into the diner. This late in the evening, there aren’t so many customers there anymore, only about three tables with people seated. He walks up to the baseball and a waitress comes to him, asking with a bright smile, “Can I help you, sir?”

“How much to buy the baseball?” Michael asks, one hand pointing at it and the other edging for his wallet in his pocket.

The waitress tucks her blonde hair behind an ear and says apologetically, “Sorry, the baseballs aren’t for sale.”

“I’ll pay any amount, seriously,” Michael tries. Perks of being the son of a magazine CEO and international supermodel—money.

She presses her lips together, smooths a hand over her uniform, and says, “I’m really sorry. I mean, I think it could be sold but my boss really likes it.”

Michael nods, raising a hand to assure her that it’s fine, and she steps away to tend to a couple that just walked in. He looks back at the baseball. It’s almost like it’s taunting him, simply sitting in the window display, no barrier between it and Michael.

He gets an idea.

A _stupid_ idea, but also really great, because it will definitely cheer Adam up. Sure, he’ll probably never be allowed to eat here again, and it’s probably something that’s happened in a rom-com, but it seems worth it.

Michael reaches for the baseball.

**+**

Adam walks back to the dorm when the rain starts letting up, feeling remorseful more than anything. He hadn’t meant to snap at Michael like that, he’d just been feeling so guilty and angry that it’d begun taking over his life. Yes, he started eating a little less but that’s more of him just losing his appetite than anything else, and he’s only been staying up late to look up Sam and Dean in an attempt to find out more about them. They have literally no social media presence—no Instagram, no Twitter, not even a _FaceBook_ account. It’s impossible to find them.

He fishes his dorm key out of his pocket, an apology for Michael sitting on the tip of his tongue, but it’s lost when he opens the door to see Michael on the floor with a projector in his hands, half set-up.

Michael looks up at him, eyes widening slightly in surprise like he hadn’t expected Adam to be back so soon. “Hello, Adam.”

“Hey,” Adam says, hoping that all trace of his earlier frustration has dissipated from his voice. He points at the projector, knowing neither he nor Michael own one, and asks, “What are you doing? Whose is that?”

The details screen of _Night At The Museum_ on Netflix flashes onto the wall and Michael puts the projector down on the floor to keep it still. He explains, gesturing to the projector, “I went to twelve different dorms asking for a projector to borrow so I could put _Night At The Museum_ on for you, I remembered you said it was your comfort movie. I thought it’d lift your spirits. I ordered some burgers for you too and I was going to get them after I finished up with the projector, then you came back a little too soon.”

“Sorry I spoiled your plans,” Adam says, feeling a soft smile growing on his face, the anger in him slowly dying away.

“And I got you something,” Michael adds as if he’d suddenly remembered it. “After you left, I wanted to make you feel better, so I recalled that during dinner, you pointed out this baseball signed by Babe Ruth and you said he was your favourite player so I went back.”

Michael moves to retrieve something from the bed and in his hand sits the signed baseball.

Adam takes it and their fingers bump on the baseball, but both boys don’t acknowledge it. Adam’s mouth falls open slightly as he traces the signature, in awe. “Michael, holy shit. How much did you buy this for?”

Embarrassed, Michael says, “It wasn’t for sale.”

Adam pauses to process that before he looks up from the baseball at Michael. “You _stole_ it?”

Michael looks a little bit like he wants to bury himself alive but he offers a smile like he’s somehow both ashamed and proud at the same time about what he did. “I would steal a baseball field for you if it was possible. Adam, I will do anything if it will get you to smile.”

“I can’t believe you stole this,” Adam says, laughing in disbelief. “You know they’re never gonna let you back in, right?”

“Worth it.” Michael watches Adam marvel over the baseball and starts, “Adam, it was my mistake to try to get you to talk when you didn’t want to and I apologise.” Adam looks up at that, surprised—and then Michael realises he never apologises for anything. He always felt too prideful or out of place to do it. Yet, here, it’s so easy. He continues, “Look, you don’t have to tell me why you are upset, but you can’t stop me from trying to cheer you up. It’s my job, just like you said it was yours when I wasn’t feeling good either.”

Adam leans forward and tentatively pulls Michael into a hug, his arms looping around Michael’s neck to bring him closer. Michael’s never had a hug like this before and he’s never been hugged by Adam either—it’s enveloping, full of warmth, and his hands skate across Adam’s back and he breathes him in. He smells like rain and coffee, with a hint of his cologne.

“Thank you,” Adam says quietly. “And I’m so sorry for snapping at you.”

“I wasn’t mad at you,” Michael says, and Adam buries his face in the crook of Michael’s neck. Neither of them wants to pull away from the embrace so soon—it’s like they’ve waited their whole lives to get here, into each other’s arms, and now that they’re here, it seems stupid to let it go so quickly.

“I’ll tell you someday,” Adam promises. “I’m just not ready yet.”

Michael nods and leans his cheek against the top of Adam’s head where it rests on his shoulder. “I’ll be here when you are and we’ll deal with it together.”

Adam pulls away enough to look at Michael, but not too far that he breaks the hug, and asks, “You and me?”

Smiling, Michael says, “You and me.”

It sounds like a greater promise than the situation had warranted—Michael had just promised Adam that he would never have to be alone again.

The craziest part is that Adam believes him.


	9. Dyspnea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/ Outing in the Chuck, Cas and Michael part (yes, it's important to one of their stories, I wouldn't have a character be outed for no reason)

**dyspnea  
** _noun  
_ shortness of breath.

As 2011 begins, Adam has had some time to process the existence of his two older brothers, Sam and Dean. He’d even asked Kate for anything else she might know about them. She told him that all John has told her about them is that last he saw them, they were in Lawrence, Kansas, and Dean was 7 while Sam was 3. Calculation tells Adam that Sam is a year older than him while Dean is 5 years older. Chances are that they were both still in school, so it must be a sick joke that neither of them has any social media accounts.

After asking John again, Kate could offer him a bit more about them: Sam really liked when their mom Mary sang _Hey Jude_ to get him to sleep, and Dean was a rowdy kid. That’s all Adam could get because John wasn’t around long enough to really know what they’re like. He hasn’t seen them since so it’s not like he had a clear idea on what kind of people they are now. He didn’t even have a photo of them with him. At least, not one he was willing to share with Adam.

It all leaves him exactly where he was before: nowhere.

By the time it’s January, Adam had given up looking. It doesn’t seem like his search for them was going anywhere. With a last name like Winchester, most of the search results were related to the haunted mansion or the gun manufacturer.

He’d considered just coming out with it and asking Michael for help. With connections like his, he might have better luck tracking down the Winchester brothers. The only problem with the plan is that Adam isn’t ready to talk about it yet so he forgoes telling Michael. One day, he will, but not today. One day he will tell Michael everything about him.

Speaking of Michael, the baseball he’d stolen for him sits on Adam’s desk, proudly on display. Adam had thought about returning the baseball out of remorse that apparently, the boss of the diner really likes Babe Ruth too, but Michael did go through the trouble to get it and it makes for a great story, so he’d ended up keeping it. Kevin got a kick out of it and Mick offered his famous disapproving stare.

It’s so easy to talk to Michael (unless about his brothers, to which Adam has put into undetermined delay). Yeah, it’s not as if Adam tends to be quiet, but it feels like something in him just opens up when Michael is near. He never feels like he has to hide any part of himself away, no matter how awful. Even with the whole Sam and Dean thing—Adam was sure that Michael would give him nothing but support once he knows about them, and that in itself is enough comfort for Adam to attempt to get through this on his own.

He only wishes that Michael is the same. Michael is a lot more closed off—trying to get him to confide in him on his troubles is one of the hardest things Adam will ever have to learn. He’s too prideful to admit when something is wrong, usually preferring to just wallow in his own misery alone and just say it’s nobody else’s business or lie that there is no reason for his mood.

A part of Adam thinks that it’s because Michael is too used to being alone. From what Michael and the Internet tell him, Chuck barely tolerates Michael and Amara is often busy with work. Though, with their recent embrace that lasted too long for “just best friends”, Adam hopes that Michael knows he’s not alone anymore.

Adam hopes Sam and Dean aren’t alone either. Nobody deserved to be forgotten, especially them, not by John. He hopes they had a good Christmas with Bobby, whoever he is. At least someone had taken them in, in John’s absence.

John hasn’t tried to contact him since dropping the bomb on him, but Adam couldn’t be happier about it.

**+**

“We’re running out of cologne.”

It’s the first time Adam has openly acknowledged that he has, in fact, been stealing Michael’s cologne. In his defence, Michael never asked if he was using it, so Adam never admitted to it. It’s not his fault that Michael’s expensive cologne has such a charming smell, and not his fault that the scent is like feeling Michael’s arms around him all over again in a sweet embrace.

Michael regards him with a raised eyebrow, trying to decide between two shirts as he stands there in the same red board shorts he wore at Christmas. “We wouldn’t be if you weren’t using it.”

“Well, yeah, but I like it,” Adam says as if it’s a good reason.

Michael half-smiles, still looking at his shirts and not at Adam as he asks, “Why do you like it so much anyway? I have other colognes you could have used, you know.” True, for Michael had enough different bottles of branded cologne in one of the drawers of his side of the wardrobe that would have lasted way longer than if they shared just the one bottle.

 _Because you wear that one the most_ , Adam thinks. _So it smells like you._

He doesn’t say it out loud. Instead, he changes the subject. “I saw online that your friend is releasing a new collection soon.”

“Which friend?”

“Castiel,” Adam answers, the name still sounding so foreign on his tongue. The article was from Vogue, detailing how Castiel is set to debut a collection, his first under the label NOVAK. Though Adam hasn’t gotten the chance to meet Castiel, he can tell from the transcribed interview alone that he must be a stoic guy, perhaps a more serious version of the Michael that Adam has had the privilege to know.

“Oh. I thought you were talking about Bela,” Michael says. “She said something about a new collection too.” He finally chooses a shirt and pulls out a maroon leather jacket Adam hasn’t seen him wear before. “That reminds me, I’ll be going back to New York this Saturday if you’d like me to pick up anything for you while I’m there.”

Adam straightens up in his chair. “Wait, why are you going back?”

“My father’s going to interview Castiel and we’d agreed to go out together. Plus, Gabriel has some things he wants to pass to me, so I might as well go,” Michael explains. “I should have told you earlier. Do you want to come along?”

As much as Adam craves to follow Michael where he goes, he also knows he has to catch up on some schoolwork that he’s been seriously procrastinating on. There’s simply no time in his weekend to go to New York City on what sounds like a busy itinerary. Dejectedly, Adam says, “I can’t.”

Michael pulls the maroon jacket on over his shirt and flashes Adam that same endearing half-smile he always has when he’s amused and leans over to ruffle Adam’s hair. “I’ll bring something home for you.”

 _Home as in here? Home as in their dorm? Dorm 522?_ Adam’s mind is racing at a statement so simple that he’s sure he’s reading too much into it. Yet, Adam has always been careful with the way people speak, and he’d noted he said “going back to New York”, but is saying “I’ll bring something home for you”. Adam doesn’t dare let his mind wander into the dangerous territory of what it means if Michael thinks of their little shared space on campus as his home. He wonders when he started thinking about their dorm as home.

He tries not to think about the way Michael’s arms felt around him then. He tries not to think about how he’d never felt more at home than at that moment.

Adam eases his racing heart with what was meant to be a joke that comes out a little too serious. “Just you will do.”

Michael lifts an eyebrow in a quiet sort of amusement and contemplation, perhaps also trying to comprehend if there’s some underlying meaning behind his joke. “Just me?”

“Just you.”

“You know, it is only one day in New York,” Michael says, picking up his laptop to put it into its case.

Adam mutters, pretending to complain, “But I’m so used to seeing you every day.”

Michael’s hand rises, barely grazes the line of Adam’s jaw with a touch that lingers. Unconsciously, Adam leans into the touch. Nowadays, he’ll take any chance he gets to touch Michael. Sure, they’ve made it a habit to always hover around one another by now, but moments like these are so fleeting that he won’t let them go so quickly. Michael tilts his head and if Adam dared overthink a simple movement, he’d think he was going to kiss him, but then Michael says, “I know.”

_Don’t overthink it, Adam._

Michael’s hand falls off the side of Adam’s face and Adam finds himself chasing the movement. For a second, it’s like they’re in the bathroom again, months ago when Michael punched Arthur and Adam held his face in his hands. It seems so long ago, and the look in Michael’s eyes as he stared up at a worried Adam makes him think there really is more to this than he thinks.

“But it’ll be quick,” Michael continues. “I’ll be off the night before and back the next. You won’t even notice I was gone.”

Briefly, Adam contemplates when exactly he’d gotten quite so attached to Michael to the point where he’s sure his day won’t be good if he doesn’t see him.

“How is Kevin?” Michael goes on to ask as he puts his laptop in his bag. “I haven’t seen him.”

“Better,” Adam answers. Kevin has been feeling well as of late—he and Channing had finally called it off on account of him kissing someone else and their life plans being too different. Despite it, Kevin is definitely experiencing a little more freedom with himself, though it seems like he’s resigned to not telling Adam anything about his sexuality crisis despite Adam’s insistence that he can’t just keep it in. “He broke up with Channing.”

“And that’s better?” Michael questions.

Adam shrugs. “They weren’t exactly going anywhere.” Michael hums quietly in agreement and Adam says, “Hey, bring me home coffee from Dean & Deluca.”

“You can get Dean & Deluca here.”

“I want New York coffee,” Adam grins, purposely difficult, and Michael sighs.

“It’ll be cold by the time I get back, but I’ll see what I can do,” Michael says. “Unfortunately, I have to go for lunch with Mick and Benny now, so I’ll see you in class later.”

Adam nods. “Why unfortunately?”

Sending Adam his most charming smile as he’s halfway out the door, Michael says, “They’re not you.”

**+**

The week passes quickly for Michael, but maybe it’s because he’s been looking forward to spending Saturday in New York City. Meg asked him to pass Bela a dress she’d made for her in case he sees her. The blue satin dress sits in a thin box in Michael’s bag on his flight to New York. He’d seen it—it’s actually a rather beautiful dress. He told Meg that he holds no doubt that Bela will love it.

The flight is lonely without Adam around to keep him company. Perhaps it should be more of a concern that he can’t even imagine going _one day_ without seeing Adam in the morning. Michael chalks it up to how it has become habitual to greet Adam ‘good morning’ every day without fail, smile at the way his hair sticks up like he’d been shocked awake, his blanket tangled in his legs. He doesn’t remember when he’d gotten this used to Adam. He just knows that this is right, and was only made stronger after they hugged last month.

When he finally arrives in New York, he heads straight for Gabriel’s place—a little apartment in the city. Not a shabby neighbourhood and considerably close to the NOVAK building. Gabriel welcomes him with excitement. He’d offered to let Michael stay at his place for the night so he wouldn’t have to spend money on a hotel room and Michael agreed to it.

“Michael!” Gabriel grins, opening the door wide so he can come in. “How was the flight?”

“Could be better,” Michael answers, putting his bag down on Gabriel’s couch. “I thought you lived with Castiel.”

Pouting dramatically, Gabriel complains, “Cassie’s becoming a grown-up. Told me he wanted his privacy, got himself this sweet crib in Flushing without me.” Michael huffs a laugh at that, and Gabriel switches gears. “Hey, how’s that Adam kid?”

“How did we get from Castiel to Adam?”

“I dunno, looked at you and remembered him,” Gabriel says. “So? Are you dating yet?”

Michael rolls his eyes. “Gabriel—”

“Just trying to speed things up for you!” Gabriel defends, raising his hands in surrender. “You _do_ like him, right?”

Michael finds himself unable to answer, so he busies himself with switching his jacket out for the other one in his bag. When Gabriel realises he isn’t getting a response, he grins. “You do.”

“Shut up.”

Entertained, Gabriel sits on the armrest of the couch, watching Michael put the new jacket on. “Why’s it so hard for you to admit it? All of us could see it when you two came to the studio, that time.”

“Why’s it so hard for _you_ to mind your business?” Michael retorts. He neatly folds his previous jacket up to slip into his bag and says, “And there’s nothing to admit.”

“Okay, okay,” Gabriel says, completely unconvinced but seeing no reason to keep poking the bear. If Michael doesn’t want to talk, he won’t. Despite how little they talk in real life, Gabriel texted Michael enough to be aware of the fact. “Oh, yeah. The stuff I wanted to give you. So I did the makeup for this actor and he invited me to a private fashion show. The goodie bag is _ridiculously_ sexy.”

“Are you calling a goodie bag… _sexy_?” Michael questions, dumfounded. “I suppose that’s not very unexpected of you. I should have seen that coming. Of course, you would find a goodie bag sexy.”

Gabriel laughs and shows him the goodie bag, talking about what items are in it that Michael could give to or share with Adam when he returns to Wisconsin. One of the items is cologne which makes Michael chuckle. Gabriel raises an eyebrow and asks, “What, that’s what makes you crack up? Really? I make jokes and you don’t even smile.”

“What can I say? Adam’s funnier than you,” Michael says, putting the cologne in his bag as Gabriel looks for other items the two students would like to have from the goodie bag.

“You wound me, Shurley. You really do,” Gabriel says half-heartedly. “See, if you wanted your boyfriend to be a comedian, you should just tell him.”

“He’s not—”

“Your boyfriend, yeah, _yo comprendo_ ,” Gabriel cuts over, rolling his eyes. “Sometimes, I think the only person you’re trying to convince is yourself.”

Michael frowns. “Convince myself about what?”

“I just mean that maybe…” Gabriel trails off and after a moment of thought, backtracks. “Never mind. Not my place. Cassie’s taught me enough about getting jumbled up in someone else’s mess.”

“Mess?” Michael echoes, now mildly concerned. “What are you talking about, Gabriel?”

“Just figure out where you stand with Adam before it’s too late, that’s all!” Gabriel quickly says, trying to dismiss the conversation as he turns back to the goodie bag. “So, do you like the scarf or wallet? Because I’m only letting you take one of these.”

Michael shakes his head, running a hand over his exasperated face. “Do you ever make sense?”

Gabriel grins. “Nope. Nobody taught me how.”

“How does Castiel put up with you?”

“He doesn’t. I told you he literally made me move out,” Gabriel says, sighing dramatically. “Scarf or wallet?”

“I’ll have the scarf,” Michael decides, taking it from Gabriel and running the gentle fabric through his fingers. “Adam gets cold in class sometimes.” When Gabriel gives him a shit-eating grin, Michael already knows what he wants to say. “Don’t even think about saying it.”

Gabriel laughs obnoxiously, finding something else in the goodie bag. “I seriously don’t get you, dude.”

**+**

After seeing Gabriel, Michael goes to Chuck’s apartment. Apparently, Chuck had received a new line release from YSL to feature in Heaven Magazine. After having the pieces photographed, he’d been allowed to keep them. Chuck didn’t want them, though, and Amara suggested that he give them to Michael instead of putting them in company storage. A part of Michael wishes they didn’t give him so much—his side of the dorm wardrobe is slowly taking over Adam’s side and he’s beginning to feel bad—but if this means he sees his father without any promise of conflict, he’ll take it.

Chuck had been a bit reluctant to allow Michael to come over since Castiel would be there for an interview but given that Michael and Castiel were friends and Amara insisted that they need to spend more time together, Chuck let it go.

Michael arrives a little earlier than Castiel does and walks in on Chuck setting up a voice recorder and his laptop. “Do you mind if I do my work at the dining table?”

“As long as you’re quiet, I’m audio-taping the interview,” Chuck answers.

Michael takes his laptop out of his bag and opens it, checking his phone for any new notifications to see, at the top of the screen, a new text from Adam reading: _dean & delucaaaaaaa_

He huffs a soft laugh to himself, typing back: _I will get you a cup but I cannot promise that it will still be hot when you get it._ _You have very unrealistic expectations of me._

Adam’s response comes in the form of a photo of him blowing a kiss to the camera, captioned with: _get me coffee angel boy_ _thank u <3_

Michael’s chest aches at ‘angel boy’, and he forces his mind to be quiet when his eyes land on the heart. He doesn’t want to know why he feels this way — he’s always been afraid of giving too much of himself to people. He tried to dedicate himself to being a good son for Chuck and what has that gotten him? Nothing but seething hatred from his father.

The front door opens, Michael had left it unlocked, and Castiel walks in. He looks a little happy to see Michael if he knew Castiel’s facial expressions well enough to assume, but the faint smile quickly falls into a neutral look when he gazes at Chuck. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Chuck greets. “So if you’ll get seated, we’ll start. I hope you don’t mind Michael being here, he won’t talk.”

“It’s fine,” Castiel assures, choosing to sit by Michael at the table where the set-up is. Chuck sits across from him. “Let’s begin, I have an 8 PM reservation.”

Chuck begins asking Castiel questions about the new collection and Michael tunes it out—he’d never been one to be interested in fashion talk. Yes, while Michael did know enough about the fashion industry to hold up a conversation, it’s just not his thing. One less thing in common with his father.

At some point, Michael doesn’t realise when his attention has switched from the unfinished essay on his laptop screen to the text conversation on his phone. He told Adam that he’s waiting for Castiel to be done with the interview so they can get dinner together, which Adam deigns it his job to entertain Michael until the interview is over.

Adam tells him about how Benny joked about moving into 522 and taking over Michael’s life in his absence and that Arthur had tried to talk to Mick today, though the outcome of that is unknown by Adam as Kevin dragged him away to get lunch. Adam even sends him a photo of himself smiling, revealing Michael’s Louis Vuitton sweater he’d borrowed.

If Michael saves the photo to his gallery, nobody had to know.

Eventually, Michael gets tired of typing and moves to his room to call Adam. Leaning against the closed door, he holds the phone up to his ear and says a quiet, “Hello, Adam.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Adam says. Just the simple joy in his voice is enough to ease Michael’s nerves about being around Chuck. God, the power Adam has over him. Michael doesn’t know if it’s good or bad, and if that’s exhilarating or all manner of terrifying. “ _Didn’t think you would call._ ”

“It feels strange not to hear your voice every day,” Michael says. Suddenly self-conscious about it coming off weird to his best friend, he adds stiltedly, “New York isn’t overrun with nice people.”

Adam laughs, and the sound is light and fills the void in Michael’s chest in ways he cannot describe. “ _Well, you can’t say you didn’t expect that. How’s your dad?_ ”

“The same,” Michael says, glancing around his room. He thinks back to the last time he was here with Adam when he’d left him outside with Chuck to get the things Amara left for him. He remembers, though the memory was slightly hazy with the hangover, that he had pressed his ear to the door to listen when he heard Adam and Chuck talking.

The only thing he remembers is that Chuck thinks Adam is bad for him.

He did ask Adam afterwards, wanting to know what he missed from the conversation, but Adam didn’t want to talk about it so he didn’t push.

Though, now, Michael did want to know if that really was what he heard. “The last time you came to the apartment. Did my father really tell you you were a bad friend?”

Adam pauses for a second too long. “ _You heard._ ”

“I did, but that was all I can remember.”

Adam sighs. “ _Yeah, but it’s because I challenged you to get drunk at the party. It was my fault, you can’t contest that.”_

Michael rejects the notion. “I agreed to do it, it’s not your fault I was hungover. My father can be dramatic sometimes.” Before Adam can even find the words for a reply, Michael says, “I’ll talk to him about it. He can’t be saying that to my friends.”

“ _Michael, really, it’s fine. I wasn’t even that hurt anyway—_ ”

“I’ll talk to him,” Michael insists. “Alright, I think the interview’s ending soon. I have to go. Lo—” He cuts himself off quickly, the impulse to say ‘love you’ loud in his chest. Where did it even come from? Since when were they on that kind of relationship? It would be weird to say it. Michael settles for, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“ _Goodnight, Mike. Don’t talk to your dad about me._ ”

The call drops and Michael leaves his room only to walk right into a frustrated Chuck and a stricken Castiel. He slows to a stop, trying to figure out what has happened this time.

“I don’t feel comfortable answering the question,” Castiel says.

 _So Chuck’s being invasive like he always is_ , Michael thinks to himself. Michael’s ability to know when he’s invading boundaries clearly didn’t come from his father.

“Come on, Cassiel! It’s not like it’s some big secret anyway!” Chuck says, bordering on impatient as his fingers tap the recorder with high-strung nerves. “Everyone knows you’re gay! It’s _obvious_.” Michael’s gaze snaps straight to Chuck, glaring at his father who raises his eyebrows at him, bewildered by Michael’s reaction and Castiel’s rising temper.

Slowly, Castiel exhales, ragged. “Excuse me?”

Chuck starts to repeat himself, “Everyone knows—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Castiel interrupts, looking increasingly hysterical to the point that Michael shuts his laptop, beginning to get concerned about the situation. “You do not get to... What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Castiel,” Michael says, reaching out to him. The moment his fingers touch his arm, Castiel jerks it away like Michael has burned him, staring wide-eyed as he backs away to pick up his bag off the floor.

“ _No_ ,” Castiel says shakily. “Don’t fucking touch...”

He takes his bag and rushes out of the apartment, leaving Chuck to throw his hands up in exasperation. Michael doesn’t give it a second thought; he goes after Castiel, out into the lobby of the apartment complex.

“Castiel, wait,” Michael calls out, stopping Castiel. “I apologise on my father’s behalf, he doesn’t know when to stop.”

If there’s anything that Michael is good at, it’s knowing how people feel. Right now, he can see it on Castiel’s face—he is distraught, angry, perhaps even the early signs of hysteria. Maybe Chuck’s callout had hit too close to home. Maybe Chuck’s assumption was right and Castiel just wasn’t ready for someone else to know.

Maybe the powerful Castiel is very simply... _scared_.

“I don’t want to hear anything you want to say,” Castiel says bitingly.

Michael tries, “Castiel, you shouldn’t be alone—”

“No. Fuck, no,” Castiel cuts off. He puts a hand between them to stop Michael in his tracks. “I want all of you to stay the hell away from me. I don’t want to hear from you, talk to you, or even see you. Fuck you all.” He laughs loudly and bitterly, the sound full of hatred and dread before he stumbles out of the building into the rain-soaked street. “How dare he assume?”

Michael says from the entrance, “It’s raining! Come back inside until it stops, at least. You’re going to get sick.”

Castiel flips him off.

Michael distantly hears him calling Crowley on his phone to drink til they forget. When Castiel is long out of eyeshot, he goes back upstairs and ignores Chuck’s questions, packing his things to go back to Wisconsin on the next flight out.

“Where are you going?” Chuck asks, irritated.

“Home,” Michael answers, just as exhausted with Chuck as Chuck is with him. At this point, Michael only wanted two things: One, for Castiel to make it home safe. Two, to see Adam. He never failed to make him feel better. He’ll text Gabriel later to tell him he won’t stay the night.

“This is your home,” Chuck says like Michael’s being stupid, and he is so tired of his father.

He shakes his head, never feeling this sure when talking to Chuck before. “No, it isn’t. Home isn’t a place where you ruin things. You don’t tell your son he shouldn’t have been born, you don’t try to dig up things your guests don’t want to be known.” Taking a breath, Michael brings up, “I heard you, you know. I heard you tell Adam that he isn’t good for me, that time we came.”

Chuck looks bewildered. “Do you think otherwise? He makes you get black-out drunk, he thinks he has some right to you—”

“He is the _greatest_ thing to happen to me. You do not get to tell me what he is or isn’t!” Michael interrupts, agitated. “I don’t know why you are so set on making sure that people don’t… People are supposed to feel _safe_ in a home, not—not _this_. Not whatever you’re trying to do. You just—” Michael cuts himself off, trying to find the right words to say, searching for the courage to finally convey them to his father.

Finally, he says, “You made me believe Mom was my fault and you made me hate myself for something I could never control. I spent my whole life trying to fix your mistakes. You chased away a friend who understood me. You have ruined everything good in my life so I’m going home to the one thing you haven’t.”

As Michael slings his bag over his shoulder and pulls on his shoes, Chuck says challengingly, “You think _Adam_ has all the answers? He’s not some saviour, he won’t save you from whatever hell you have convinced yourself I’ve made of your life. Michael, you are unfixable.”

Michael doesn’t bother gracing Chuck with a response, only slamming the door behind him as he leaves the apartment. He walks absently until he has exited the apartment complex, standing in the middle of the downpour as people brush past him to get out of the rain. He tries to hold in everything that threatens to spill out, uncomfortable with the public vulnerability, but the words echo in his mind— _Michael, you are unfixable._ When he feels himself inevitably begin to cry, he looks up to let the rain hide his tears from the people who pass him by.

Michael may not look like he’s crying, but God, does he feel like shit.

**+**

“Oh, _shit_.” Castiel laughs as Crowley looks down at his soaked Michael Kors pants. He says, so drunk that he almost crashes into Crowley, “I can’t believe you did that in front of him. On his own clothes.”

“This is your fault. Why did you have to ask me out for drinks?” Crowley grumbles, looking Castiel up and down with disgust. “You threw up on your Alexander Wang.”

Castiel shoves Crowley, still laughing. “At least I didn’t shi—”

“ _Shhh!_ ” Crowley hisses and Castiel doubles over, near tears. “What if he hears you?”

“I don’t think he has to hear me,” Castiel says through giggles. “He just has to look at your pants.”

Crowley’s ringtone goes off and he rolls his eyes, lazily patting around his blazer until he locates the bump of his phone. He pulls it out and squints against the bright screen, reading the text he’d gotten.

 **[29 March 2011, 2:49 AM]  
** **Michael Shurley:** Crowley, will you please look out for Castiel?

Crowley struggles to find the letters, the keyboard swimming in alcohol but manages to type a coherent response to Michael.

 **[29 March 2011, 2:53 AM]  
** **Crowley MacLeod:** lool he threwwe up on his Ale x wanngs and AW is hereeee

Michael reads the text almost instantly but doesn’t reply. Though, Castiel’s phone rings a few seconds after the ‘delivered’ becomes ‘read 2:53 AM’. Castiel grumbles under his breath and fishes his phone out of his pocket, hitting the green button to accept the call without reading the caller ID.

“Hello,” Castiel says, raising the phone to his ear. “Cas... _tiel_. I’m Castiel. Who’s this?”

“ _Michael_ ,” the familiar voice answers from the other end. “ _Castiel, will you listen to—_ ”

“Fuck off,” Castiel groans loudly, dragging the ‘off’ for a few seconds before hanging up on Michael, tossing his phone carelessly behind him.

Crowley frowns and smacks his cheek to sober a little bit, questioning, “Thought you and God Complex’s kid got along.”

“They can all go to hell. I don’t need Chuck’s bullshit,” Castiel mutters.

Chuck had hit the nail right on the head with him—yes, he was gay. No, he wasn’t loud about it. Nobody knew, not even Gabriel, only one night stands that Castiel has had in the past few months, the reason why he’d asked Gabriel to move out and give him privacy. Sure, maybe in a clearer, less hysterical frame of mind, Castiel can begin to process that Michael and Amara had nothing to do with Chuck’s actions, but he’s tried so hard to keep this part of him buried out of fear for way too long now that he’d forgotten how exactly he’s supposed to deal with this kind of thing.

Castiel is afraid of ever seeing the words ‘Castiel Novak is gay’ as a headline so he’d lashed out and told the one friend who really got him to fuck off. His night is ruined — he’ll simply fix it with drinks.

He turns to Crowley and says, displeased, “I asked you out here so I could forget what happened. Are you gonna help me or should I call someone else?”

“Alright, fine,” Crowley says, raising his eyebrows as if to say he won’t argue any longer. He didn’t necessarily trust anyone else with a drunken Castiel. He leans behind Castiel’s chair to retrieve his phone from the floor before someone steps on it and looks over the screen — no cracks. Thank God for carpeted flooring. He adds, “But if you throw up again, that’s on you, Wings.”

**+**

Michael returns to campus with a cup of coffee from Dean & Deluca in one hand. It was warm when he had gotten it from an outlet in Madison but after his slow walk back to school instead of hailing a cab or taking a bus, it has since turned cold.

The plane ride didn’t help his mood at all, but the moment the dorm door opens to Adam’s cheery face, Michael already feels a little bit better.

“I got your coffee,” Michael says. “It’s cold, though.”

Adam grins, taking the coffee from Michael. Their fingers graze over one another on the cup. “It’s okay. I’ll heat it up. Kev says I can borrow his—” He cuts himself off, doing a double-take on Michael. “What’s wrong?”

“Is it that obvious?” Michael asks wearily, coming in to put his bag on the floor and sit down on his bed. Adam has always had good intuition so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he knew Michael was off, yet it never ceased to amaze him when Adam can read him like a book.

“You’re my best friend,” Adam points out, pulling his chair closer so he’s directly in front of Michael. “Is it your dad again?”

Michael contemplates not telling Adam anything—he could lie, tell him that it’s just another one of those days when he simply wishes he didn’t exist. The excuse has worked before and this doesn’t seem like a big deal. But here, with Adam’s crystal eyes looking at him with such genuineness, Michael can’t lie.

He’s almost ashamed to ask the question. “Do you think I’m unfixable?”

Adam’s face twists into something between flaring irritation and bewilderment. “Is that what your dad said?” Michael nods slightly, the movement so small that Adam might have missed it if he was someone else. No, Adam pays attention.

Adam’s hands come up to Michael’s face so he’ll look at him and feel the heat of his sincerity. “Michael, you don’t need to be fixed.”

“I fuck everything up,” Michael insists. He didn’t think Chuck’s words would still be beating him around hours after he heard them, but here he is. “I’m broken.”

“You’re not broken,” Adam replies softly. Michael really looks at him—his eyes have flecks of pale yellow he hadn’t noticed before. “If he can’t see that, that’s his loss. But you’re not broken, not to me.”

Carefully, Adam pulls Michael into a hug that carries the gravity of planets in two gentle hands.

Something in Michael twists and aches, and there’s a hurt that goes on hurting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NWP // If you read Novak Wears Prada, in one of the chapters, Cas mentions that he and Crowley once got drunk 3 years prior and made a fool of themselves in front of some designers. This is where that story happens.
> 
> Castiel's journey with his sexuality would be more in-depth in Novak Wears Prada. I wish I could elaborate more on that in this one to make his reaction seem less extreme (cutting off Michael and Amara even though they weren't involved) but D522 isn't about him, so if you want to follow Cas, his story is in NWP.


	10. Analgesia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus :(

**analgesia**  
 _noun_  
the absence of pain.

As spring slowly recedes back to waiting for its comeback next year, the heat of summer begins to beat down on the university campus. The sun, while painting the school in a magnificent shade of gold, is still the sun, and nobody likes how hot it gets in summer.

Adam peers out of the blinds of their dorm’s window, looking at how the grass’s morning dew is glistening under the early morning sunlight as Michael tries to get the portable air conditioner he bought last night to work. If he pretends that this is not a dorm room but an apartment and that they are in New York City and not Madison, Wisconsin, it feels like he and Michael have been together for years, like they’ve moved in together a long while back and Michael fixes the air conditioning in the summer while Adam tries to keep the sun out.

His cheeks flush, and Adam isn’t sure if it’s from the warmth or from his thoughts.

He hears a soft click behind him and Michael’s quiet but triumphant, “There we go.” Michael brings the small air conditioning unit closer, perching it on the windowsill as he draws the blinds shut. “Don’t hog it.”

“I would never,” Adam gapes, though he still ends up grabbing the machine and holding it close to his face, taking in the cool air. “Thank you, angel boy.”

Michael smiles, ruffling Adam’s messy blonde hair before moving to sit on his bed with his laptop. “You’re welcome. Just share the cold air, please.”

Adam settles comfortably next to him, their bodies pressed close despite the heat and holds up the small air conditioner between them. “Is this okay?”

Sending one of his more tender smiles his way, Michael says, “It’s okay.”

Leaning a little to rest his chin on Michael’s shoulder so he can see his laptop screen, Adam asks, “Are you working on that essay Asmodeus asked us to do?”

“Yes.”

“You know that’s not due for another two months, right?” Adam points out. Michael is already halfway done with the essay from what Adam can tell — it’s supposed to be a summary of everything they’ve learned in year one, though Adam fails to see what purpose an essay like that served. Adam knew that Michael didn’t exactly know what the point was either, but he mentioned that it’ll probably be a good cheat sheet before an exam.

“You know me, I like to get an early start,” Michael replies. “So, Walker cancelled his lecture today. What are you planning to do?”

Adam shrugs. He always wants free time but once he does get it, he has no idea how to spend it. “I don’t know. What are you gonna do?” After a moment’s pondering, he adds, “If you’re going to stay in and just do the essay, don’t answer.”

Michael grins.

“You’re no fun sometimes,” Adam complains, falling onto his back so he’s lying on the bed instead of sitting as Michael continues to type. “We should use the day! You always spend all your free time in the dorm.”

“That’s not true. I go out with Benny and Mick,” Michael points out. “I also go to the arcade with you.”

“Besides that. You rarely leave this place,” Adam says, sitting up again and putting his hands on Michael’s shoulders, leaning into his side once more. “Come on, you and me. We’ll get dressed up, we’ll have some fancy dinner in town. How does that sound?”

Michael scoffs. “Sounds like I’m going to pay for that dinner.”

Adam rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically, already standing to pick out an outfit. “I’ll split the bill with you, okay? And I’m going whether you’re coming or not. I can always ask Kevin.” Somehow, the thought of having his company substituted by Kevin’s is enough reason for Michael to agree to stop working on the essay and go for dinner with Adam. He thought about joking about this sounding like an impromptu date, but decides that the joke might hit too close to home, and ends up unsure if that’s for Adam or for him.

“I’ll go,” Michael relents, closing his laptop and placing it on his desk.

Conversationally, Adam says, “I know it’s been over a year but I _still_ want that window desk.”

“I know it’s been a year but you should have come earlier,” Michael retorts, moving up next to Adam to choose his own outfit. “What exactly is your dress code for this dinner?”

“Fancy,” Adam grins.

“You know how unlikely it is that we will get a table in a ‘fancy’ place without a reservation, right?” Michael questions, eyebrow raised.

Adam asks light-heartedly, “What, does your last name not have any pull?”

“Unfortunately, nobody cares that I’m not a magazine CEO or a supermodel,” Michael says, taking out a black dress shirt with a silver Hermès tie.

Adam raises his eyebrows suggestively, taking out his own white dress shirt. “I think you could pass for a supermodel.” Michael looks in the mirror and vaguely does his tie while still staring at Adam—he’s not quite sure why he can’t stop watching him, but he doesn’t contest it. Adam sighs in amusement, saying, “Your tie’s on wrong. Come on, I’ll fix it.”

Adam gently tugs Michael closer by his tie, leaning forwards to straighten it. Michael’s eyes don’t leave Adam’s face as he does this, finding himself unable to look away — they have never done this before, such a simple act of pure domesticity, and yet it feels so ridiculously normal. 

“Thanks, honey,” Michael says unconsciously and Adam pauses.

“ _Honey_?” Adam echoes.

“I thought that was the moment,” Michael says, stepping away and forcing his expression to make it look like a joke to cover up.

Adam laughs half-heartedly, his thoughts elsewhere before he says, “Michael, listen, I need to tell you something. It’s been going on for, I don’t know, almost the whole time we knew each other, but—“

Mick comes in with a grin. “Hey boys, hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Eyeing their close proximity, Mick looks a bit regretful. “Am I?”

“No, no. It’s fine,” Adam says, putting a distance between them where Michael instantly misses the closeness. “Did you need anything?”

“Adam, you’ve been looking a bit down lately so I thought I would try to cheer you up with a date,” Mick says and something in Michael burns with irritation. “There’s this boy in my course, Max Banes. He’s seen you around and has a bit of a crush on you. I set you two up for dinner this evening if that’s fine with you? If it’s not, I can cancel.”

Michael says reluctantly, “It could be fun.” He immediately regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth— _Adam was going to take you out for dinner, what the hell are you doing?_

Adam regards him with an expression that’s half-appalled, half-something-like- _hurt_ , and he shrugs. “Fine.”

“Fantastic. I’ll let Max know,” Mick grins. “Oh, Michael. Benny asked me to tell you he wants to go out for dinner with you tonight.”

Once Mick disappears down the hallway, Adam gives Michael a forced smile. “At least we’ll both have company, right?”

**+**

When Benny comes to his room in the evening, he says, "Look, brother. I don't want to go for dinner; I know Mick set up a date for your roommate and thought you would want the company."

Michael grumbles almost incoherently, loosening the tie around his neck since there’s no need for it anymore. “I don’t need anybody.”

“I’ve seen this before. Hell, I’ve felt it before,” Benny says. “Back when I wasn’t with Dean yet, he cancelled on me to go on a date with some girl. His li’l brother Sammy kept me company. Felt a lot better.”

“Yes, but the difference is that you had a crush on that guy,” Michael retorts.

Benny rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue his point any further. “You have any music in this room?”

“My walkman,” Michael says, already turning away to the stack of his and Adam’s cassette tapes. “If you get it from my desk, I’ll let you pick the cassette.”

Benny looks over the desk. Once more, and again. “Brother, don’t wanna alarm ya, but it ain’t here.”

“What?” Michael takes a step over to the desk, searching it. “It should be here, I didn’t move it.”

“Maybe you left it elsewhere,” Benny suggests, going through Adam’s desk. When he comes up empty, he gives Michael a half-smile. “Your closet?” Michael opens the closet doors and looks in the drawers for a little blue walkman—nothing. Benny crouches to look under the bed and Michael climbs up to check Adam's top bunk to see if he had borrowed it.

"Fuck, I lost it," Michael mumbles.

Benny tries to comfort him. “It’s just a walkman.”

“No, it’s the only thing my mother left me,” Michael explains. After losing a friend like Castiel, his rant to his father that guarantees repercussions at some point and the stress of nearing examinations slowly creeping up his spine, adding the loss of his mother’s walkman is the tip of a very large iceberg. “I can’t lose that.”

Benny rests a hand on his shoulder, trying, “Hey, we’ll keep lookin’. You’re jumping to conclusions. Maybe Adam took it to Kev’s room or something. We’ll ask Kevin and if he hasn’t seen it, you can just call Adam and ask.”

Kevin tells them Adam didn’t bring the walkman over to his room and that he’d never even seen the walkman before, to begin with, which leaves Michael with a dead end.

If he truly has lost the walkman, the only piece of his mother he gets to live with, on top of a friend and his father, Michael isn’t sure what to do. He only knows Adam at this point, the only thing he is sure of in his life. If Adam was here right now, Michael would feel a lot less bad about everything. He didn’t need Adam’s help, but his presence and comfort are certainly welcome.

Of course, he sent Adam off on a date with Max fucking Banes. _Great_.

“Maybe you should ring up your boy.” Benny finally gives up looking.

**+**

If Adam was honest, he didn’t really want the date with Max Banes from fashion. However, Mick looked excited about doing something “nice” for Adam and then Michael had to say it could be fun. Sure, maybe Michael was trying to be polite and didn’t know if Adam wanted that date or not but did he _have_ to say something?

Mick texted him a photo of Max so he would know who to look for at the diner — admittedly handsome but at the end of the day, just not _Michael_.

Adam manages to find the diner where Mick said Max is supposed to be but before he can go through the door, his phone rings and he sighs, pulling it out to read the caller ID. The moment he sees that it’s Michael, he hits ‘accept’. “Hello?”

“ _Adam, I need to ask you something_ ,” Michael says, his voice shaky and concerning. Adam has never heard Michael sound like this before. “ _I can’t find my walkman, have you seen it?_ ”

He wracks his brain to remember if he has seen it but his most recent memory of it was when Michael and he combined his walkman and Adam’s cassettes to listen to music together and that was quite a while ago. He hadn’t seen it since. Apologetically, Adam answers, “I haven’t.” He can hear things rustling in the background like Michael is looking for it and he asks, “Do you need help?”

“ _No, I’m okay. You’re busy with Max_ ,” Michael assures, not sounding okay at all. “ _And I feel better already. Enjoy yourself._ ”

Adam quickly cuts in with a lie before Michael can hang up, “Max cancelled on me.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Michael says. “ _I’m sorry._ ”

“Look, I’m on my way back right now. We’ll find the walkman, promise. I’ll see you soon.” Adam hangs up and lowers the phone from his ear, looking through the diner window to see Max on his own phone. Adam glances at his phone, where Michael’s caller ID has faded off his screen to present itself as his latest caller in the history log, and then back up at his date. Maybe it's mean to not even try and give Max a chance but this is Michael. Adam could never leave him.

He walks into the diner, heading straight for the table Max is at. Max looks up with a smile, asking, “Hey, you’re Adam, right?”

Adam can’t stop himself from rambling out of concern for Michael, “Yeah, I am. I’m sorry, something personal cropped up with my best friend. He lost something really important to him and he doesn’t sound like it but I know he’s probably really upset and I have to help him find his walkman. He told me to just have dinner with you and not worry about it but I know my mind won’t be here and I’ll be wasting your time and I’m sorry about that.” He takes out his wallet and pulls out some money and says, “I’ll pay for your dinner and a cab ride home.”

Max listens, nodding along in understanding. "No, you don't have to pay. It's alright." Waiting for a moment to think, he adds, "How long have you been in love with your best friend?"

Adam falters. "What?"

“Call it a sixth sense,” Max jokes. “Seriously though. Your rambling, that concern. I’m kinda bummed about the date ‘cause you seem like a nice guy but I know when to step off.”

Adam’s cheeks heat up. “I’ve been in love with him for a while.”

“Then tell him, Adam. I don’t know you, don't know what you’re beating around the bush for but you clearly love this guy,” Max advises. “The number of times I’ve regretted not making a move, man.”

“Okay.” Adam nods and repeats, “And again, I’m sorry.”

“Good luck, Adam,” Max says, lifting a hand in goodbye. Adam leaves his money with Max and leaves, waving farewell before he exits the diner.

**+**

Adam makes it back to the dorms when the sky has darkened and his phone rings with a call from Kevin. He picks up, holding the phone to his ear as he fishes for his room key in his jacket pocket. "Hey, Kev."

“ _Adam, you’re like the Michael whisperer_ ,” Kevin starts.

Frowning in confusion, Adam mumbles, “I mean, I guess, but what the hell does that mean?”

“ _I don’t know how to deal with him_ ,” Kevin says. “ _Mick’s not here and Benny left an hour ago but like ten minutes before I called you, Michael almost got in a fight with Ketch because he’s half-convinced he stole the walkman._ ”

“Jesus,” Adam exhales, going up to the floor that his dorm is on. “I’m almost there.”

Another fight with Ketch — though Adam could see Ketch stealing the walkman simply to fuck with Michael, he also knew Michael wouldn’t just jump into a fight on “half-convinced”. He may be quick to anger at times but he’s not that impulsive. He must be itching to do something and keep busy, then.

Adam walks through the door of his dorm and Kevin sighs in relief. “You’re here.”

“Mike, you went to fight Ketch?” Adam questions, putting his keys, wallet and phone down on the table.

“He deserves it,” Michael replies, looking more riled up by the second. “I saw his face when he walked past and heard I lost the walkman. He took it, I know he did. He kept saying he didn’t but Kevin brought me back here.”

Calmly, Adam asks, “Do you think you’re just trying to come up with a reason that the walkman’s gone? I know it’s important to you and we’ll find it eventually but you can’t just go around trying to punch someone because he looked at you wrong. Even if he’s an asshole.”

Kevin nods in agreement and questions, “What, do you need to get rid of the anger or stress or something? Because you don’t need a fight to do that.”

“I lost my mother’s walkman, a friend and my father hates me more than he ever has,” Michael snaps. “I don’t need a stress reliever! I don't need _anything_."

Tentatively, Adam reaches out to cup Michael’s face between his hands, causing Michael’s eyes to find his. The way Michael looks at him makes Adam almost forget what he wants to say—Michael’s staring at him like he’s the only thing that matters if Adam dared to overthink one simple look. He shakes all thoughts of it and asks, "That's not true, isn't it?"

Michael blinks once as if seeing clearly for the first time. It’s like he’s been living in a fog his whole life and now it’s gone, leaving nothing but perfect clarity.

"No," Michael answers brokenly. He did feel broken; for the first time in his life, he feels something. Pained, broken, irreparable, because he’s irretrievably in love with—

Adam asks, genuine and gentle, “What do you need?”

 _You._ The word gets stuck in Michael’s throat. It would be so easy to say it. _I need you._

He lies, “I don’t know.”

“Well, whatever you need, I’m right here. I’m always here,” Adam promises. “You got me.”

Michael nods absently, feeling every inch of rage drain from him to something like warmth on his skin under Adam’s hands.

His mouth says, “Thank you.” In his mind, _I'm in love with you._

**+**

Once Michael has made his peace with losing the walkman on the promise that he and Adam will look for it again tomorrow, Kevin insists on talking to Adam alone in his room. Now in 521, Kevin says, “Holy shit, dude. You didn’t tell me you two got together already.”

“We haven’t,” Adam corrects.

Kevin stares at him absently. “Then what the hell was that? Let me tell you, that shit is not best friend behaviour.” Eyes full of unasked questions, Kevin prods, “I’m confused, man. Why haven’t you told him about your feelings? Do you not like him anymore?”

“I _love_ Michael! I love him more than I have ever loved anything,” Adam says, throwing his hands up in exasperation before drawing in a deep breath, looking down the empty hallway and then back at Kevin. It’s the first time he’s ever admitted out loud that he loves Michael. “But love — Love isn’t supposed to be about what I want. If he didn't feel the same, it would ruin everything and I can't risk that no matter how much I wish for more."

Kevin blinks. “Even if you never get to have him?”

Adam nods, resigned. “I can’t lose him, Kev.”

Kevin’s mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to find the right words to voice his thoughts but nothing came to mind. Slowly, he says, “You really love him so much that you’re a fucking _idiot_.”

“What the hell, man?”

Kevin stares at him like he can’t believe how stupid he is and says, “Dude, I don’t know how you haven’t realised it yet but he likes you. I know you think you don’t stand a chance because he’s good-looking but first off, you’re a catch and second, it doesn’t matter whether one other person likes Michael or the whole goddamn planet because Michael doesn’t care about any of them, he never did. He only ever cares about you.”

Adam is unbelieving. “No.”

Kevin throws his hands up in the air, incredulous. “How do you _not_ —Look, Ames, Charles and I see the way he looks at you, and for someone who has never been in love, he sure looks at you like he is. I was there just now, you know. I saw how he stared at you when you asked him what he needed.”

Challenging, though his heart is beating hard in his chest, Adam asks, "Yeah? Like what?"

“Like he’s been looking everywhere and finally found you,” Kevin finally says. “He loves you, Adam. We can all see it. I just don’t know why neither of you can. I know you’ve waited a long time for a real kind of love, you’ve told me, but have you waited so long that you just can’t tell anymore or what?”

The words are unreal in Adam’s ears. Maybe he has waited too long that he’s forgotten what it is to come to a conclusion. “It just feels like I’ve been waiting, my whole life, you know?” Adam says. “Waited for university postings, waiting for my dad to just be there. I’ve been waiting for a lot of things and I guess I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to wait for someone to love me.”

“You have Michael,” Kevin says softly. “You don’t have to wait anymore.”

“I’ll tell him soon,” Adam finally says. “I’m not ready yet.”

“You’ll never be ready,” Kevin says, giving him an encouraging smile. “So just tell him. It’s a lot less effort than whatever it is you’re doing.”

**+**

Michael lies awake in bed that night, staring at the bottom of Adam's bunk and listening to his quiet breaths—he's asleep. After almost two years of sleeping in the bunk under Adam's, he knows how to tell if he's awake or not.

Since Adam's presence had done the most to calm him down to make more rational decisions than challenging Ketch to another fight and feeling less tense about what has happened recently to himself, Michael now had time to think about the revelation from earlier that evening.

He's in love with Adam.

He’d never felt this before. Glancing at the Moulin Rouge! poster by his bed, Michael remembers the way Christian mindlessly started rattling off _Your Song_ by Elton John as he watched the way Satine moved. In a way, it had felt almost like that.

When Adam held his face in his hands, Michael’s heart sang poetry.

Adam is like Midas, everything he touches turns to gold in the most beautiful ways. Every time Adam touches him — a brush of fingers as they pass a pen, his hands on Michael’s cheeks when he wants him to look at him, their legs pressing when they sit together. Even when Michael smells one of his sweaters to realise Adam has borrowed it, or walking past Adam and recognising his cologne. Seeing the baseball he stole still sitting proudly on Adam’s desk and the disposable camera that he knows is almost full with photos of just him.

Hearing Adam sleep above him.

 _Jesus Christ._ His chest twists and bursts and aches.

Michael has finally fallen in love.

He can’t fall asleep.

**+**

That weekend, when they’re both finished with that week’s assignments and another failed attempt at finding the walkman, Michael brings Adam to the secret spot he found when he first moved into the university dormitory — a breathtaking field behind the school with long green grass and a clear view of a sunset or sunrise. He’d never shown anyone the spot until now, but sharing this with the boy he loves seems like the right thing to do.

“I haven’t shown anyone else this,” Michael says, leading Adam through the broken fence to the field.

Adam straightens up and gasps softly. “Shit, this is beautiful.” Grinning, he says, “Thanks for showing me your spot.”

“It’s _our_ spot now,” Michael says, sitting down cross-legged in the grass. Adam settles down next to him, leaving his own legs outstretched as he leans back on his hands.

“How’d you find this place?”

“It’s just the back of the school, it’s not like it’s a hidden spot. I’m surprised nobody else knows this field exists,” Michael replies. “I found it when I was touring campus right before I tripped over your moving boxes.”

Adam’s face splits into a smile as a quiet laugh bubbles from him. “Back when we didn’t know each other... We sure came a long way from that, huh?”

“We have.”

“You were all nice about it but you looked like you wanted to crush my boxes under your shoes,” Adam jokes.

Michael smiles, looking at the horizon where the sun is about ten minutes from setting. “Honestly, no. I remember thinking that I hate meeting people.”

Adam draws his face into a judgemental expression, frowning as he cracks another joke, “Wow, you moved in with someone you just met? Rush into things much?”

“Only fools rush in,” Michael says, quoting Elvis purely because he knows Adam would be amused by it. The grin he pulls from Adam with it is worth the cheesy reference to the love song. Letting his good mood carry him, Michael sings the rest of the line, “ _But I can’t help falling in love with you._ "

“Hey, Mr Romantic,” Adam laughs, shaking his head. Suddenly, his eyes widen like he’s just thought of something genius and he sits up in the grass, rolling over so he’s lying on his side, head propped up by his elbow. He grins widely at Michael, saying, “You singing that gave me an idea. We should make a pact.”

Humouring him, Michael asks, “What kind of pact?”

“Like... If we’re both still single by 40, we’ll marry each other,” Adam says, looking up at the sky in thought, and Michael can’t help but laugh.

“Someone’s watched too many romantic comedies with Kate,” Michael says sarcastically. “And as if the government will ever allow it.”

“Hey, we are pretty odds-defying,” Adam points out and Michael chuckles, nodding in agreement. “And you never know! Maybe one day, they’ll change their minds.” Michael honestly doubts it with so many conservatives who felt like they had a right to someone else’s life though he did admire Adam’s optimism. Adam watches him think, the way the gears in his head shift, and asks, “So, you wanna? Or should I ask Kev—”

“ _Alright_ ,” Michael quickly agrees. The last thing he needs is the love of his life asking Kevin Tran to be his backup husband. He turns to face Adam and asks with as much sincerity as he can pour into the question, “Adam Milligan, will you future-marry me?”

Adam— _the cheeky bastard_ —denies, “No, ask me properly.”

“But I don’t have a…” Michael absently trails off, rolling over to pat the pockets of his pants to see if he has any makeshift ring. In his right pocket, he finds a keyring that’s a bit too wide for Adam’s finger, but it’ll do. By then, Adam has stood up, and Michael shifts so that he’s on one knee in front of Adam.

“Alright, I have the ring,” Michael says, falsely exasperated, and Adam laughs, the sound sweet in Michael’s chest. The sun is setting, casting beautiful shades of pink and orange on his best friend’s face. “Adam Milligan, will you future-marry me?”

Adam grins like he’s the only person in Michael’s world—he has always been. “Yes, I future-will.” Michael puts the keyring on Adam’s finger, the silver reflecting the sun. Adam turns to look out at the field and shouts to the horizon, “ _Michael Milligan is my future husband!_ ”

Michael sends him an amused smile, echoing, “Michael _Milligan_?”

Adam sighs loudly, looking pointedly at Michael as he says, “Oh, don’t act like you want to keep your dad’s name.”

He really didn’t. “You make a good point. Michael Milligan, then. It actually has a ring to it, by all manner of alliteration.”

Adam jokes, “You would sound like a superhero with my name.”

“Like Matthew Murdock?”

“You _do_ read my comics!” Adam gasps and Michael can’t help but laugh. “You know, Matt’s middle name is Michael.”

“So is yours,” Michael says, remembering that one trip to the arcade. The Han Solo plush is still on Adam’s bed.

Adam smiles, saying, “We all have so much in common. See, we’re like the perfect future husbands already.”

“We really are,” Michael says, leaning over to pull Adam in by his shoulder. Silently, they watch the sun set the rest of the way and though the sky grows darker, Michael’s world hasn’t felt this bright in a long time.

He’s waited his whole life for Adam to walk right in.


	11. Euphoria

**euphoria**  
 _noun_  
a state of intense happiness.

Adam wears the keyring on a necklace under his shirt. While too big for a finger and just strange to return it to Michael, the two agreed it would be amusing if he wore it anyway. Kevin got him a simple thin cord from the fashion students' workshop for it, overly enthusiastic about the future proposal and demanding his ten dollars from the bet they made. Adam insisted that it's not a real engagement so the bet is still anyone's game.

As the stress from exams slowly ebbs away with every passing paper, Adam and Michael are getting more excited for Christmas, mainly because Michael has agreed to spend it with Adam’s family instead of going back to New York. With a father that hasn’t contacted him once since the whole fiasco with Castiel, Michael didn’t feel good about going back so he decided to simply mail a trunk of Louis Vuitton clothes and accessories he negotiated from Crowley to send to Amara and leave for Minnesota with Adam.

On their birthday, they’d kept it intimate like the last time they did, sharing a bottle of expensive champagne gifted by Mick and Benny. Though this time, they didn't sit on the windowsill, instead going to their field behind the school. They talked about anything that came to mind, their voices and laughter bringing them through time so quickly that the sun is kissing their faces before either boy could process that the night has passed.

Adam gave Michael some of the photos in his disposable camera that he had developed. Since Michael gave him the camera, Adam had filled the film with photos of mostly Michael but of course, it would be strange to present the guy you’re in love with, with a stack of photos you secretly took of him so Adam printed the photos they took together. There was one Amelia took of him and Michael in her dorm room, sitting so close that they might as well be one person, staring at something on Adam’s phone. Adam can’t remember what they were looking at that intently but he can still recall the warmth of Michael’s skin against his arm.

Michael gave him a spare key to his car. He'd joked that he'd be a terrible "future husband" if he didn't give Adam access to his car too, but Adam knows it's his way of telling him how completely he trusted him. He never lets anyone drive his car and now he's giving Adam a key.

Adam used his new status as the unofficial co-owner of Michael’s Tesla to hang a replica of the golden dice from the Millennium Falcon on the rearview mirror as a reference to their first arcade trip.

“That’s so cheesy,” Michael said at first, and then after staring at it for a full minute, he sighed and said, “Keep it there.”

Adam feels like all that waiting in his life is finally coming to an end. There’s just something about the way he and Michael have been since the walkman and the field that is different, like there is something exciting and unpredictable right down the road.

When he relayed that to Charlie, Amelia and Kevin, they had all been adamant that Michael must have finally “gotten his shit together” and might be thinking about asking Adam out. Though a nice sentiment and something that no longer seems that far out of reach, Adam is still hesitant to let himself believe it in the slim chance that it’s not true.

No matter what it is, it’s exciting all the same, and he just can’t wait to see what it really is.

**+**

While Michael is gone, out for lunch with Amelia and Benny, Adam has to stay in the dorm to finish the essay Michael finished a while ago. Procrastination will be Adam’s downfall, he just knows it. 

A knock on the door interrupts his train of thought and he looks up to see that it’s Mick. “Do you have a moment?”

“Yeah,” Adam says, leaning away from his desk to give Mick his full attention. “Anything wrong?”

“Arthur stole and broke Michael’s walkman,” Mick says.

Adam blinks. “So Michael was right?”

Mick nods and closes the door behind him, running a hand over his face. “You know, I held out hope that it wasn’t him even though Michael made a convincing argument about it. But he’s right, Arthur’s just not the same guy I used to know. I even asked him about it! He lied to me.”

Adam says, “I’m sorry, Mick. But this is for the better. You deserve someone way better than that.”

“It’s time,” Mick says quietly. Though Adam himself couldn’t imagine sticking around when he’s being treated poorly, he can understand when your heart is too big for its own good. That, he can sympathise. “I’ll go end it.”

“For good?”

“Forever,” Mick says with resolve. “I’ve just been so hopeful that there’s a part of him that’s still good but stealing and destroying Michael’s mother’s walkman is horrible. Who knows what else he’s done that I don’t know about? And he... is terrible to me. I’ve made too many excuses.”

“Thank you,” Mick says, leaning into the hug. “Inias is trying to swipe the walkman, he should be here any minute now with it. Again, I’m sorry.”

A short rap on the door is followed by Inias slipping into 522, holding up a walkman that's so damaged that it makes Adam wince. "This is Michael's, right?"

"Yep," Adam affirms, carefully taking it from him. "What the hell did Ketch do to it, run over it with a car?"

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Inias scoffs. “I think Michael’s better off buying a new one.”

Though Adam agreed that it would be easier to buy a new walkman, he knew the value in this particular one and no price put on a walkman can ever compare to the value of a memory of a dead parent. After Mick and Inias leave him be, Adam grabs his wallet and brings the walkman down the hall to Garth Fitzgerald’s dorm.

Garth is an engineering student that Kevin introduced him to a few months ago. He’d never really said more than a friendly “hello” in the dormitory hallways to Garth but he can tell from his demeanour that he’s a nice guy.

“Garth, right?” Adam says, knocking on his dorm door. 

Garth looks up from the contraption on his table, putting down his screwdriver as he flashes Adam a smile. “Yep! Hey, Milligan. What can I do ya for?” Adam puts the walkman down on Garth’s desk gently and Garth’s eyes widen at the damage. “What happened?”

“Ketch broke my best friend’s walkman because he’s a petty asshole,” Adam explains. “It means a lot to Michael so I wanted to ask if you could help me fix this. I’d do it myself but I’m not studying engineering for a reason... I’ll pay however much you want, I just hope you can fix it before Christmas week.”

“Ketch’s a piece of work,” Garth mutters. He picks up the walkman to look it over before nodding. “Yeah, I can fix this up for you. I’ll take some time though because I’m working on my final year project but I can definitely repair it before Christmas.”

“Thank you so much,” Adam says, taking out his wallet to put down two 50 dollar bills on Garth’s table. “Is a hundred enough? I don’t know how much to pay for this kind of thing.”

Garth holds up the bills and nods to say it’s enough for him and asks, “I thought you’d know. I think Kevin said your dad was an engineer too?”

“Yeah, I know the price rate for _cars_ , not walkmans,” Adam points out. “Thanks, man. When do I come to get it from you?”

“I’ll bring it to you. 522, right?” Garth asks. When Adam nods to confirm it, Garth gives him a thumbs up and returns to his work.

Once he leaves Garth’s dorm, he goes straight to his own. He thought about telling Michael that the walkman has been found, but maybe it would be a nice surprise on Christmas. It’s not like he’ll be making Michael wait for months since Christmas is just next week and he won’t be able to have it back until Garth is done with it anyway.

It would be a great present to give him, so Adam can only wait for Garth to repair and return it in time for Christmas in Minnesota.

**+**

The morning that Adam and Michael are set to leave for Minnesota, Garth beckons Adam out of his room to pass him the repaired walkman. It looks good as new and definitely worth the hundred bucks; Adam can't wait to see the look on Michael's face once he gets it back. Though Michael tried not to let it get to his mood, Adam can tell the loss of the walkman was still a burden to him and now, it will no longer be.

Since Michael has a car, they decided to make the journey to Minnesota a 7-hour road trip once Adam brought up the fact that despite knowing each other for two years, they’ve never embarked on one before. Michael didn't particularly want to get up for a plane ride anyway so he readily agreed and had his car charged.

Michael owns a Tesla, one of the cheaper models priced under $40,000, if Adam hazards a guess. He said Chuck and Amara got it for him for his 17th birthday, one of the few times his father had shown him kindness though it was only because Amara convinced him to get the car with her. Adam can tell Michael treasures this car; there's not a scratch on its surface and the inside is so clean. Sometimes, Adam wonders if Michael can invent time with how much time he can find to do things like finish assignments early or clean his car.

They buy a bunch of snacks and bottled water for the road, and Adam has some CDs he brought back from Minnesota the last time he visited. Michael insists that they keep some pillows and a blanket in the backseat—"If you get tired, I want you to be comfortable.". 

They agree to split the drive, each of them taking four hours. The actual drive is about seven hours long but they accounted for breaks. Michael volunteers to drive first, and then Adam will take the last few hours and take them up to his driveway. Kevin texts him as Michael starts up the car about how romantic a long drive can be, and Adam sends back an unenthusiastic thumbs up. Of course, Adam knows road trips can get romantic if they find the right moments to take a break. If Adam can catch them at a perfect sunset spot, they could sit on the hood of his car and watch it. Maybe they both get tired and take a half-hour nap in the backseat together. Who knows?

Two hours into the drive, they’ve done none of that. Instead, Adam abandons his CDs to play with the car’s radio, switching between a station that plays a mix of pop, alternative and rock music and one that only plays classical every time the variety one plays anything bad. Michael and Adam sing along to whatever song they know, and Adam lifts up his phone to take photos and videos of Michael. Michael has a beautiful smile almost the whole way and Adam never wants to forget that.

Three hours in, when the road-trip high has now relaxed and the radio volume has been turned down, Michael drives in comfortable silence as Adam looks out the window at the passing lampposts. There's a half-finished can of Pringles between them in the cup holder and two small empty packs of gummy bears that Adam devoured half an hour prior.

“Are you asleep?” Michael suddenly asks.

“No,” Adam replies, turning so he’s now looking at Michael.

Michael gives him a strange smile. “Well, you’re being uncharacteristically quiet. If you’re tired, I’ll pull over and you can move to the back to lie down.”

“Nah, I don’t have to go to the back,” Adam denies and Michael nods once, turning his attention back to the road. “Can I tell you something?”

“Do you need me to stop?”

“No.”

“What is it?”

Adam decides to go for it. “Do you remember when you stole that baseball? That day, I wasn’t doing so well.” Michael nods and Adam takes his cue to continue. “I was feeling... I don’t know, awful because my dad told me a while back that I have two brothers that he left behind to ‘raise’ me instead.”

Michael straightens up, eyes widening slightly. “You have brothers?”

“Somewhere in Kansas, if they haven’t moved,” Adam answers. “I was mad at my dad, then I was just irrationally mad at myself because if it weren’t for me, maybe he wouldn’t have left them on their own. Even though I know it’s really not my fault, I can’t help it.”

“You have a kind heart,” Michael says. “But I hope you know that this is your father’s wrongdoing and you bear no responsibility over your brothers.”

Adam clears his throat. “I tried to look them up online but I couldn’t find anything. Sharing a name with a gun manufacturer and a famous haunted house, ‘Winchester’ really buries any search results of people with that as a last name.”

Michael thinks it over and then offers, "If you tell me their names, I'll see if I can find anyone who happens to know them."

“Sam and Dean Winchester,” Adam tells him.

"There sure are a lot of Deans in our lives," Michael observes, amused. "My middle name, Benny's ex-boyfriend, your brother."

“It’d be kind of funny if Benny’s Dean is my brother,” Adam jokes before he pauses, staring at Michael in horror. “Oh God, do you think it’s the same Dean? I’m pretty sure my brother’s the same age as him.”

“Benny’s Dean had a brother he called Sammy,” Michael recalls. His laugh is quiet before it bursts loudly and Adam’s nerves feel a little more at ease at the sound. “What a small world.”

Just like that, it’s a weight off of Adam’s shoulders now that Michael is helping him carry that baggage.

In need of a distraction, Adam starts a game of Zitch Dog that goes on with Adam in the lead until they slow down for a half-hour break before Adam’s turn to drive. They stop at a gas station—since Michael's Tesla is electric, he can't charge it there so he just shuts off the car and sits on the hood of it next to Adam. It's evening by now and they catch the tail end of the sunset where the sun is almost halfway gone.

They watch it quietly until Michael breaks the silence. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this peaceful in twenty years.”

Neither of them say anything after that, but Adam puts his hand over Michael’s until the sky darkens and they get back into the car.

There, Michael gets tired and settles in the back under the blanket they brought. He mumbles a soft ‘good night, Adam’ and after about ten minutes, quiet breathing — Michael is asleep.

Adam looks over fondly, slowing the car down a bit so he can safely reach for the blanket in the backseat and drape it over Michael. With one hand on the steering wheel, Adam uses the other to adjust it so the blanket completely covers him.

“I like you a lot,” Adam says, his voice so soft that it’s almost silent. He glances at Michael—no reaction, he’s definitely asleep. “I promise I’ll tell you soon.”

**+**

“Come on, Mike. We’re here.”

When Adam shakes Michael awake, he realises that they’re in Kate’s driveway. It has a bit more snow than their campus does, putting the Milligan household under a layer of white.

“Is your father here?”

Adam scrunches his nose in thought. “I don’t think so. I don’t know if he’ll stop by later or not but right now, he shouldn’t be.”

“Thank God. I despise your father,” Michael says frankly, causing Adam to burst out laughing.

“You have the right idea,” Adam says, getting out of the car to grab their bags from the trunk. Michael leaves the pillows and blanket in the backseat, taking his bag from Adam and following him up to the front porch. There is the memory of Adam’s previous birthday where he and Adam had sat on that porch. The first time Michael ever told anyone about his birthday.

Adam presses the doorbell, releasing a pretty chime that is soon followed by Kate Milligan’s pleasant smile greeting them.

"Hello, Kate," Michael greets, widening his eyes in surprise when Kate pulls both him and Adam in for a group hug.

“Hey, boys,” Kate grins, leaning back to look at them. “I feel like you’ve both gotten taller since the last time you were here! Michael, you’re so handsome. Adam, you need a haircut.”

Adam pulls the most offended look in his arsenal. “Michael gets complimented and you tell _your own son_ to get a haircut?”

"You know I say it out of love," Kate chuckles, stepping aside. "Come on in. Michael, are you staying for the whole weekend?"

"I should be if nothing crops up back at campus," Michael answers. "But I'd hold off on setting up the guest room."

Kate gives him a thumbs up, continuing, “John is coming in the evening. I know things have been rocky between the two of you lately with the big news, but I hope you can be civil, at least for me, our guest and the holiday.”

Adam mutters, “I’m not the one who hid two sons.”

Kate’s smile is apologetic. “I know. When I say civil, I guess I’m hoping more that John won’t do anything stupid like he always does. I trust you to be more rational.” She claps her hands once as if to conclude that conversation and says, “Well, I’m preparing tonight’s big dinner so you can either help in the kitchen or go hang around the neighbourhood until I call you back.”

Michael volunteers, “I can help you cook.”

“Me too,” Adam agrees. Sure, he’s not as adept at cooking things as Michael but he can still help his mother a bit. Even if it’s just to clean dishes or do simple things like mixing ingredients. It’s something.

“Thank you,” Kate smiles. “Come on, let’s get started.”

**+**

When they’re done setting the table the dinner, John arrives at the house, dressed in three layers of flannel and denim. Michael mutters under his breath about the fashion disaster he is and how Amara would probably pass out if she was asked to wear that.

John doesn’t try to interrogate Michael this time, only asking basic questions like if they’re doing well in school. Adam supposes Michael’s getting the brunt of John’s attempts at interaction because perhaps a part of John feels bad for springing Sam and Dean onto Adam. There’s a partial apology to Michael for dealing with John in his stead but the other half of Adam is glad he doesn’t have to.

Dinner is only lively because of Kate, trying to include Michael and Adam in as many conversations as she can. John offers his own input here and there, though Adam ignores him and Michael just hums in acknowledgement at best. At least they’re being civil and John is actually trying to not be an asshole for once in his life.

Eventually, the food is finished and the table has to be cleared. Though Adam and Michael offered to help again, Kate insists that she can handle the dishes alone and tells them to go take a walk, which is her way of letting them off the hook so they don’t have to deal with John any longer than they have to.

Since nothing changes Kate Milligan’s mind except Kate herself, they agree, going to take a short walk around the block together. Adam quickly grabs the walkman from his bag, slipping it into the pocket of his jacket to give him while they’re out without his mother or John there to watch.

“Your neighbourhood is very nice in the holidays,” Michael observes, taking in the pretty decorations on the other houses’ front yards. Snow descends slowly, the way you fall in love, and it is mesmerising to see. The white makes Michael's ebony hair look that much more of a stark contrast to his light skin and verdant eyes.

“Yeah, sometimes the whole place gets together and sets up a Winter Wonderland kind of thing, Everyone would decorate extravagantly and just go around the neighbourhood to take pictures. I don’t know why they skipped this year but maybe next time,” Adam says.

“I’ll have to come again to see it, then.” Michael’s attention is caught by one of Adam’s neighbours’ lawns where there’s a choreographed display of fairy lights shining to the beat of Christmas music along with a snowman dressed as what Adam can only assume is Spongebob characters.

“Maybe we can make this a thing, you come here for Christmas and I can go with you to New York for our birthday or something,” Adam suggests. Michael grins, nodding, and Adam reaches into his jacket. This time is as good as any.

“Merry Christmas, Mike,” Adam says, handing the blue walkman over to him.

Michael stares at the walkman, stunned. "Where did you find it?"

“You were right, Ketch had it. I’m sorry I stopped you from getting it back from him,” Adam says apologetically. “Ketch broke it but I paid Garth from engineering to fix it, that’s why I could only give it now. It should be good as new now.”

Michael looks over the music player as they move forward, side by side. A soft expression settles on Michael’s features like the gentle falling snow, his green eyes brighter than Adam has seen before with thin snowflakes caught in his dark hair. In awe, Michael says, “You really are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“Yeah?” Adam’s face splits into a happy grin, spreading warmth in Michael’s chest like the sunrise on cold mornings. Adam leans into Michael’s side, letting Michael pull him even closer with his arm around his shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“You’re just saying that because I found your walkman,” Adam denies light-heartedly. “Just a ‘thank you’ will do.”

They walk slow, bodies without space between with Michael holding them so close together, down the pavement where it’s quiet. Michael looks over at him, eyebrows knitted in bafflement. “It’s not about the walkman. I don’t think I ever told you this, but you are like pure euphoria to me. My day is simply no good if I don’t talk to you. When I wake up, I count the minutes until you do. When I go to bed, I wait until I get to say good morning to you again. There are many things in my life I wish could have been a bit different but you are not, and will never be, one of them. Even if I have to go through every awful thing in my life again, I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

Adam’s mind cuts out. “Michael, that is so sweet. I feel the same.”

“Maybe I learned a thing or two from your romantic comedies,” Michael jokes.

Mildly impressed, Adam notes, “You know, you’ve come a long way from who you were two years ago when we met. You didn’t know how to make friends and you were like fish out of water. And now you’re so much more open and you and Benny and Mick go for dinner and drinks sometimes, and you help Inias with his clothes... I’m proud of you, Mike.”

“I had a good teacher,” Michael smiles. “You make friends so easily, Adam. Everyone you meet likes you.”

They stop near Adam's front yard, under a tree, and Adam says pointedly, “Your dad sure didn’t.”

“Fuck his opinion,” Michael says. “I like you so much.”

Adam laughs, trying not to read too much into Michael’s words, and looks up where he sees mistletoe, small and almost taunting. His laugh grows quiet and he jokes, only half-serious, “Hey, look. You know what that means.”

Michael plays along, a small smile forming on his face as he moves his arm off of his shoulder to take one tiny step closer to him. “It is tradition, right? We should hold to it.”

Adam’s breath catches; he's wanted to kiss Michael for a long time. Yet, the more Adam thinks about it, the more it seems like a terrible idea because he fucking _loves_ this guy. Adam loves Michael so much and he’s terrified about how far this joke can go because when Michael inevitably says he doesn’t feel the same despite his sweet words that drip with honey, he’ll never forgive himself for it.

Regrettably, Adam says, “Maybe we shouldn’t. In case it makes things weird between us.” He toys with the edges of his sweater sleeves, trying to ease the way his heart threatens to spill out of his mouth with every word of love he ever harboured for Michael. He repeats in his mind: _He doesn’t feel the same. He loves you, just not the way you love him, and that’s alright._ He watches the way Michael’s emerald eyes dim as they follow his own. His throat is dry with the way Michael’s green eyes are washed with dull grey under the moonlight.

 _This is enough. You don't need more_ , Adam tells himself. _But I want more._

Michael presses his lips together and casts his gaze towards the snow-covered pavement, nodding slowly. “We’re best friends, we shouldn’t.” Adam copies the movement, his heart beating painfully and too loudly. He feels like the whole street can hear his chest. Snow melts on the tip of his nose and Michael’s stare pulls up from the white concrete to track the way it falls off of Adam's nose onto his cupid’s bow. “We shouldn’t,” Michael echoes again, though it’s quieter this time, more to himself, and his gaze has caught onto Adam’s mouth.

Adam’s lips are cold, then they are warm when Michael cradles Adam’s cheeks in his hands to close the space between them.

_So that’s what being in love feels like._

Adam kisses eagerly, the high of Michael’s touch like a fever dream. His eyes slide shut and his hands cling onto Michael’s jacket, dragging him just a little bit closer so that their bodies are only inches apart. Michael kisses him until Adam’s weak in the knees and then he pulls away and they instantly feel the loss.

Quietly, Michael asks, “Do best friends kiss?”

Adam exhales lightly, mist dissipating in the air between them, and his eyes fall to Michael’s mouth. Unable to come up with an answer, Adam pulls Michael back in for another kiss, pressing their bodies together. They’re warm where they meet, cold where the snow hits.

Michael murmurs Adam's name against his lips and Adam wishes he can preserve the sound forever. His name has never sounded so beautiful.

The front door clicks and the two of them part quickly, putting space between them and casting their glances to the door where John Winchester is on the porch, an unlit cigarette between his lips. John eyes them suspiciously and asks across the yard, "What the hell are you doing in the snow? Get in here, you'll catch a damn cold."

"Yeah, yeah, coming," Adam says back and John mutters to himself, deciding to save the cigarette for later and going back into the house.

Adam says, blanking on anything else to say after the interruption, “We should go back in." Michael scuffs the heel of his shoe against the wooden porch and Adam already has a feeling he knows what he’s going to tell him.

“I promised Inias that I would help him with his project. He needs someone to model the jacket he made and nobody else who can fit the size was available,” Michael explains, eyes full of apology. “I really need to get on the next flight back to Wisconsin.”

Adam nods slowly, feeling disappointed beyond all else. “I get it. Then I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be back in the middle of the night, you don’t have to wait up for me.”

“Right.” Michael looks as though he wants to hug him goodbye or maybe even more than that, but a slight shadow of hesitation stops him. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Adam.”

“Goodnight,” Adam returns, closing the door between them. His hand lingers on the doorknob, feeling a heaviness that stops him from walking away.

Michael stares at the shut door and turns to look out at the driveway. Now standing in the silence alone, the weight of Adam’s absence sets in. Michael looks up at the dark sky, feeling snow fall on his cheeks. _Why didn’t I kiss him again?_

Right then, the door opens again and Adam rushes through, grabbing his jacket to twist him around and using the momentum to pull him into a sweet kiss that sparks something fizzy and golden in Michael’s chest. They part reluctantly, Michael leaning forward slightly to chase Adam’s mouth with his own. Adam smiles, sunny and warm in the cold winter, and mumbles next to Michael's ear, “For the road.”

Michael beams at him, something so happy and bright that Adam has never seen on him before, and tucks his left hand into the pockets of his jacket, lifting the right one in an adorable wave farewell as he leaves down the driveway to find somewhere to hail a cab to the airport.

Adam watches him go, unable to stop grinning. His cheeks hurt from how happy he is and he’s sure that they’re red from more than the cold. He turns around and sees Kate at the doorway, arms folded with a knowing smile. “You and Michael. I wondered how long the two of you would dance around.”

“Mom, _oh my God_ ,” Adam says, embarrassed. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Just a second,” she assures, chuckling. “Adam, I don’t think you realise how oblivious you can be sometimes. From the moment I met Michael, I thought that boy was just _gone_ on you. Really, it's ridiculous. I genuinely thought when he came over the first time with those flowers that you were going to tell me you got a boyfriend.”

“The flowers _were_ cute of him to do,” Adam admits, walking up the porch steps to get out of the snow.

Kate asks, smiling, “So? Does my son have a boyfriend now?”

Adam pauses. “Crap, we didn’t talk about that.”

“Well, you can talk to him when you go back tomorrow,” Kate says encouragingly. “He’s there and you’re here, but he clearly loves you. Even I can see that. There’s no rush.”

There really is no rush anymore. The wait is over.


	12. Adhesion

**adhesion**  
 _noun_  
in close proximity.

Michael has never felt this way before—it’s like there is a parade in his heart with the fireworks in his mind. Even on the flight back, Michael could barely wipe the smile off of his face. The only thought in his mind is Adam Milligan and his pretty smile all the wonderful little things about him that Michael had come to love and need.

Since he had given Adam a copy of his car keys, Michael left his Tesla with him in Minnesota so Adam can drive back. Given that Michael had stayed a bit too long in Minnesota, he had to leave the car behind to catch a flight back to Wisconsin. He trusted Adam to take care of his car, though his bigger issue is that a drive back will definitely prolong the time until Michael gets to see him again.

When he returns to campus, he drops off his bag in his dorm and then goes to Inias's. Thankfully, Ketch isn't there, just Inias with a jacket waiting.

"Hey, Michael. Thanks for doing this, I'm sorry. I wouldn't have asked you if anyone else was available," Inias says apologetically.

"It's alright," Michael assures, letting Inias put the jacket on him before he follows him to the on-school studio to take photos of the jacket.

While walking, Inias asks, "Did Adam give you the walkman yet?"

"He did."

"Oh, good," Inias smiles. "It was really badly damaged. Ketch obviously wanted to get back at you for beating him that time. That man can hold a grudge, that's for sure. He's pissed that I took it from him but I don't care."

"Thank you, Inias," Michael says.

Inias continues talking while he ensures the jacket is fitted properly over Michael. "Did you know Adam turned down that date with Max to come back and look for the walkman with you?"

Michael pauses. "He said Max cancelled."

Inias's eyebrows rise to his hairline in bewilderment. "Then he must have lied to you so you wouldn't feel bad. I just heard it from Max in class last week, he said his date is clearly pining over someone else." Before Michael can think of a response to that, Inias adds, "Besides, Max is gonna move to London with his sister soon. They got jobs for the London branch of NOVAK. Max doesn't long distance anyway, so don't feel bad."

The fact certainly helps, but Michael didn't feel bad to begin with. Adam truly did feel exactly the same as he does.

When Michael finishes up with Inias's shoot and heads back to 522, he gets to work. Item by item, Michael's belongings are moved to Adam's desk while Adam's things go onto his. Adam did always want that window desk, after all.

+

Since the kiss under the mistletoe yesterday, Adam felt like he has sunshine shooting through his veins. His brain just keeps going _Michael kissed me_ and he's honestly impressed that he hasn't let the fact slip to John yet. When Kate saw them kissing and gave Adam her complete support, he'd asked her to not tell John. Neither of his parents knew he was gay in the first place though Adam has always known that his mother doesn't have a single ounce of discrimination in her heart. It was John he worried about; John has never been as open-minded as Kate and Adam, and he wasn't going to throw himself under the bus if his hunch was right and John was indeed homophobic.

After John left that night, Kate could finally ask all the questions she had accumulated over the evening. They were mostly about how Michael treated him amongst more embarrassing questions that leave Adam's face flushed red.

"I just want to know if my son's first boyfriend is respectful and good," Kate insists, wearing a light-hearted grin.

"He's not my first boyfriend," Adam corrects. "But he's the first one I feel this way about."

"I really do think he's good for you," Kate smiles fondly. "You're a bit different around him. You're more confident and comfortable. You've always been a sociable boy but he just brings out the best of you."

Adam bites his lower lip to hold back a grin but he can't. A wide smile splitting across his face, Adam admits, "I'm in love with him." Kate bursts out laughing and kisses his forehead, telling him that he should go to bed so he can stay awake on the drive back the next day.

Adam returns to campus when it's dark out, a little bit past 1 in the morning. He'd taken good care of Michael's Tesla on his drive back, stopping to charge it again for him. He figures that leaving the blanket and pillows in the backseat for the night will be fine, he can just get them tomorrow morning.

Reaching the door of the dormitory building, Adam curses under his breath when he realises that he's forgotten his dorm keys again. Michael liked sleeping early, especially after an out-of-state trip, but Adam hoped he was still awake. He calls Michael and the line picks up after three rings.

" _Hello?_ "

"Hey, Mike. Sorry to wake you up," Adam says, wincing slightly. Michael sounds like he'd been roused from sleep by the call. "I forgot my keys, could you come down and let me in?"

" _Yeah. I'll be there in a minute. Wait there_ ," Michael says before the line drops. Adam waits, looking at all the stars blinking overhead. It's almost like they can feel how happy he is.

True to his word, Michael appears at the entrance moments later, unlocking it to let Adam in. Neither of them make a move to kiss or hug, just smiling like idiots until Michael says, "We should get home."

"Yeah," Adam agrees, following Michael through the dorms to get to their floor.

While going upstairs, Michael says, "I switched our desks this morning."

"No, you didn't," Adam says in disbelief. "You really did?"

Michael jokes, "You wanted it and I thought it was time to hand it over. I can only be king of the room for so long."

“Shut up,” Adam whispers and Michael chuckles quietly, nodding as he tries to fish out his dorm key from his pockets. Like a fool, Adam had left his in the room but thankfully, Michael has his own. It faintly reminds Adam of the first day when they moved in when Adam had forgotten to take his keys from the front office and Michael saved the day.

“Ah-ha,” Michael says softly, jingling the keys triumphantly in the space between them but before he can unlock the door, Adam moves first. Maybe he’s tired from the day or maybe he’s had enough of dancing around like his mom pointed out, but Adam moves.

He leans forward and gently kisses Michael on his mouth. He still tastes sweet as champagne. His eyes are light like freshly fallen snowflakes and his skin is warm like a fireplace.

Michael’s eyes widen, freezing to the spot as he slowly lowers the keys to his side and Adam quickly pulls away once he realises what he’s done. For a second that feels like it would never end, Adam and Michael only stare at each other in the dimly lit hallway of the dormitories, processing what Adam just did. Michael sighs, dazed, his breath warm on Adam’s mouth, as he finds words to say—nothing comes to mind. He can hardly believe Adam wanted to kiss him again.

Michael inches forward, searching Adam’s eyes as he gives him time to back away. When he doesn’t, Michael kisses the corner of Adam’s mouth, and then once more, longer, on his lips. Delicate, close. They make a sweet sound when he breaks away from Adam’s.

Then Michael puts a hand to Adam’s chest to push him gently against the door, a muted thud as Adam’s back hits the surface, and he opens his mouth over his, kissing so desperately that Adam’s brain cuts out.

Adam doesn’t breathe. He doesn’t think. He doesn't wait anymore. He kisses back, letting Michael press his body to his as they make out in the silent hallway. Adam blindly grasps for the dorm keys in Michael’s hand and breaks the kiss for only a second to unlock their door. When it swings open, he tugs Michael into the dorm by his shirt collar.

Michael locks the door behind them and Adam lets him kiss him against the wall, sighing as he feels Michael’s mouth moving from his lips, along his jawline, down his neck, grazing his collarbone.

“ _Adam_ ,” Michael mumbles roughly against his skin and Adam just knows he’s gonna have a bruise there, tomorrow.

“Bed,” Adam barely says.

“Are you sure?” Michael asks, looking like his thoughts are going miles per minute. Of course, they probably are—Adam feels the same.

He nods. “Yes, I’m giving consent. Come _on_ , Mike.” Michael tips Adam over so he lands on the bed with a stupid grin and kisses him again, raising his arms so Adam can tug off his shirt.

+

Morning comes sooner than Adam would have liked but once he realises Michael isn't in their room, he figures it's no big loss then. There's a note on the door that says Michael went out for breakfast with Mick and Benny and to call him if he wants him to get food for him. Adam texts him that he'll handle his own breakfast and bites back a smile when Michael replies with: _Okay. Good morning, Adam. <3_

He makes his way to Charlie's dorm where Amelia and Kevin were already there, each of them having a different breakfast meal—Amelia has a breakfast bar, Charlie has an actual bowl of milk and cereal and Kevin is having cookies. He holds out the box to Adam, offering him some.

Taking two cookies from the box, Adam blurts out, "Michael and I kissed."

Amelia drops her breakfast bar and Charlie chokes on her cereal. As Charlie coughs and Amelia hits her back to help clear her airway, Kevin asks, eyes wide, "When?"

"When we were at my mom's place. There was mistletoe and I joked about kissing and we decided not to but then he kissed me, then I kissed him goodbye," Adam summarises.

"I can't believe my ears right now," Charlie says, amazed. "I feel like I've been waiting for this to happen for so long that it's just not processing anymore. Am I dreaming?"

Kevin slaps her arm playfully. "You idiot. This is _real life_."

"It's not processing!" Charlie asserts.

Amelia pulls Adam into a side-hug. "Our little boy is all grown up."

"Just because you're one year older than me doesn't mean you can call me a little boy, Ames," Adam laughs. "You're only getting away with it because I'm in a good mood."

Kevin asks, "Has he asked you to be his boyfriend yet?"

"Not yet," Adam answers. "But if he doesn't ask me, I'll ask him."

"Look at you! Putting the moves on Michael," Charlie teases before she laughs. "I'm seriously so happy right now, it's insane."

Adam grins. "Believe me, nobody's happier about this than me."

+

Breakfast is partially a lie; while they were all eating some food Benny ordered for them, Michael was really with them for another reason—date advice. He'd never been in love until Adam but both of them have experience. To him, it's a good idea to run date ideas by them and get it right, give Adam a perfect first date with him.

"Adam likes visiting New York so since it's winter break, I'll bring him back there for the date," Michael says. Benny watches him attentively, an amused smile on his face, while Mick is still working on his sketchbook, though he's still listening regardless.

"You're not staying with your father, are you?" Mick questions, glancing up at him for a moment.

Michael denies, "My father doesn't like Adam and I'm still angry at him. I'll put us up at a hotel." Mick nods and Michael continues, "In New York, we'll reach in the evening and get dinner at Upland. I already had my aunt book a reservation for me since she's got more pull."

"I like the finesse, brother," Benny approves. "What are you going to do after dinner?"

"There is a spot in New York, a roof where you can see fireworks when they go off. I'll bring him up there after dinner. We'll sit, talk, wait..." Michael trails off, sweeping a hand through the air grandly though there is nothing to see except bare ceiling. “Then fireworks across the Manhattan skyline.” He brings his hand back down and says with a soft smile on his face, “Then I'll kiss him... and ask him to be my boyfriend.” Benny and Mick grinning wickedly at each other, shit-eating smiles that have Michael confused. “What?”

“Michael, you’re gone on this kid,” Benny teases, obviously entertained by Michael’s date musings.

“Well, yes,” Michael says haltingly. “But what do you think about the plan?”

Mick sighs and says, “Honestly, if Adam doesn’t kiss you by the end of that date, I will.” Michael chuckles as Benny punches Mick in the arm, making Mick stare at him with daggers in his eyes. He adds, rolling his eyes, “But seriously, yes, it’s a great date. Especially with the roof.”

Benny asks, “What kind of place is it?”

“It’s one of the most stunning spots in New York,” Michael answers.

Mick explains, franker, “People bring people there to get laid or get married.”

Grinning, Benny asks, “Are you trying to get laid or married?”

Michael answers with a smile of his own, only half-joking, “Little bit of both.”

“How’d you even know about that spot anyway?” Mick asks, leaning over to check his phone for new notifications.

Michael replies, reaching into his memory to find the first time he’d been there, “I dated this architect once, he brought me up there.” It was when he was 19, on a date with a guy who studied architecture. He had brought him to the roof to watch the sunset that time, bragging about how it was the most gorgeous spot in Manhattan. He didn’t lie, it looked beautiful.

“Well, did he get laid?” Mick asks, not looking up from his phone as he texts.

Michael looks up at the ceiling, feeling somewhat embarrassed at the admission. “Why do you think I know the spot works?”

Benny and Mick’s heads shot up to look at him—Benny looks impressed and Mick, scandalised. Mick says, appalled, “Michael Dean Shurley!”

“How do you even know my middle name?”

“Adam told Kevin who told me,” Mick says dismissively. “I cannot _believe_ you.”

"Oh, be quiet," Michael says, rolling his eyes.

+

New York feels a bit different from the last time they were there. Adam had faced complete disapproval from his best friend's (boyfriend? What's their status right now?) father and Michael had lost a friend he held dear.

Yet, with each other as their only concern for this trip, it's like all their troubles in New York have been forgotten in favour of Michael's perfect first date.

Michael tries his best to ensure everything goes according to plan. He’d booked them a nice room at a fancy hotel and Amara had gotten him a good table at Upland. She had asked why he wanted a reservation at a New York restaurant but Michael preferred not to say.

At Adam’s insistence, he tries to split the bill for their dinner but Michael rejects his offer, paying for it in full along with a tip for the waitress.

“Why didn’t you let me pay?” Adam asks as he and Michael leave the restaurant together.

“You’re my date. It’d be impolite to have you pay too, I think,” Michael says. It’d been Mick’s advice to foot the bill and never let the date pay. He hoped Mick’s words were correct.

Adam shrugs. “Fine, but next time, we’re splitting the bill.”

“So there’s going to be a next time,” Michael beams.

Adam doesn't say anything, just bumping his knuckles against Michael's until Michael links their fingers together.

Hand in hand, Michael leads Adam up to the roof and they pick a clean spot to settle. From where they are, they can see almost the whole city. Red and white lights speed down the roads, street lamps and window lights illuminating the cityscape under them.

Adam says, in awe, “This is beautiful.”

Michael comes up behind him to rest his chin on Adam’s shoulder. “Wait for it.”

Overhead, fireworks explode in colourful sparks to celebrate the New Year coming up. Adam's mouth falls open, getting to see the fireworks much closer than he'd ever gotten to see them before. "Holy shit."

They watch the sparks go off above them, a stunning display of colourful light and gas. At some point, Adam turns to Michael and says, “Tonight has been perfect, Michael.”

Michael smiles, fond, and says, “I’m glad you think so.”

Adam leans over like he’s going to kiss Michael but before they can close the space, Michael hears his name get called by Amara. “Michael?”

Michael shoots backwards, surprised by her sudden appearance, and Adam looks over at her wide-eyed. Amara looks between them and explains awkwardly, "I came up to see the fireworks. I didn’t think I’d run into you here."

Michael trails off, "You didn’t—"

Adam greets politely, "Hi, Amara."

She manages to smile regardless of also being surprised by her nephew. "Hello, Adam."

Adam turns back to Michael and says softly, between the two of them. "Michael, you should talk to her."

Michael sighs—he knows he can't just leave Amara there, especially not after she saw him almost kiss Adam. He nods, resigned, and says, "I’ll see you back to the hotel first—"

Adam cuts over him. "No, I’ll get a cab. Talk to her."

Michael frowns, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over him suddenly. "Alone at night in New York? Hell no. Come on, let's go."

Adam takes Michael’s hand in his and insists, “Michael, I promise I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Or later, if I’m still up.”

Michael nods again and pulls out his wallet. “At least let me pay for the cab.”

Knowing there’s no changing Michael’s mind, Adam accepts the few dollar bills and hugs him goodbye, waving to Amara before he goes down the stairs, leaving Amara and Michael on the roof alone.

“You and Adam,” Amara says once they’re alone, joining him to look at the cityscape. “You already know what I’m going to say.”

“Yeah,” Michael mutters. “You knew. Everyone did.”

Amara can’t help but let a small smile onto her face and she glances over at him with a knowing look. “Took you boys long enough. Every time you mention Adam when you text Gabriel, he just about loses his mind. I wish you could see his face.”

Michael laughs at that, shaking his head. “It did take us a long time. Now that we’ve figured things out, it’s almost ridiculous how long it took.”

Amara puts her arm around Michael, grinning brightly. “What matters is you got there anyway. I’m happy for you, Michael.” Her hand runs through Michael’s hair once fondly before she pulls away slightly to look at him with a curious expression, her head tilted. “Though, a part of me wonders why you never told me or my brother that you were interested in boys. I mean, I suppose a part of me always suspected that—why else would I have thought you and Adam were together when I met him?—but still. You know Chuck would accept you for that, so would I. It’s not like either of us are straight.”

Michael suppresses a sigh, saying, “It’s not about you guys. I just always believed that it’s not something I should have to say.” Amara nods along, listening. “Straight people never have to tell people they’re straight, they just come home with someone and nobody questions it. It should be the same for me. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I have the extra duty of informing everyone. Coming out was never a necessity for me, I just did what I wanted.”

Amara smiles once more, this time proud, and she hugs him. “I’m proud of you, kiddo. Really. And I know you and my brother don’t have good relations, especially not lately, but about this, he would be proud of you.”

“No offence, but I don’t need his pride,” Michael says, catching even himself off guard with the words. His whole life, he’d clamoured for Chuck’s approval and now that Amara presents him with it, it’s surprisingly easy to reject it. He’d never felt so in control of himself, so free of Chuck’s expectations and lack of reason. Overlooking the city bustling below him with his aunt by his side, knowing his boyfriend—does he count as a boyfriend yet?—is waiting for him in their hotel room, Michael feels...

He feels love. This is love.

“You always did fine without it. To be honest, the ways you’ve changed the past two years since you met Adam—I can’t express how much you’ve become so much more... open. It’s like there’s this part of you that’s always been locked up deep within and Adam brought it out, the very best bits of you,” Amara says sincerely. “I think he has and will keep being good for you, Michael, and I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you, Amara,” Michael says, smiling slightly. Though he was finally done trying to seek approval from others, he did love his aunt and it still feels nice that she likes Adam too.

“I feel so bad for interrupting your date,” Amara says sheepishly, reaching into her purse to pull out her wallet. “Here, I’ll pay for your next one. If you call my assistant—you have his number—he can help you book another restaurant dinner, anywhere and anytime you like. It’s on me.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she insists. “Now go back to your hotel, kiddo. I’ll see you the next time you come back to New York.”

Michael gives her one last parting hug.

+

By the time Michael returns to the hotel room, he's greeted with the sight of Adam huddled under the thick white blanket using his laptop. Michael jokes, "Honey, I'm home."

Adam looks up and grins—his hair is still a bit damp from a shower and he looks beautiful with the soft warm glow of the bedside lamps. "Hey, Mike. How did it go?"

"Well. She said she wouldn't tell Chuck because it's my news to tell. Frankly, I don't want to tell him, it's just unnecessary drama," Michael answers, loosening the tie around his neck.

“Good, you don’t owe him anything,” Adam says approvingly and he sits up so Michael can now see what he’s wearing—Michael’s sweater that he brought along to New York, one that Amara had bought him for his birthday three years before with the NASA logo on it.

 _Now. Now is perfect_ , Michael thinks.

“Will you be my...” Michael trails off as Adam looks away from his laptop and to him.

“Be your...?” Adam prompts, raising a hand to rub his eye tiredly. He is _perfect_. Michael’s throat goes dry.

“My...” Michael can’t form the words. He fumbles with his hands—of all the things Chuck could have taught him in his childhood and he never taught him how to ask the best person in the world to be his boyfriend.

Adam smiles, confused. “Your... boyfriend?”

Michael nods.

“Not gonna lie, I was gonna be so embarrassed if that’s not what you were gonna say,” Adam says, a sunny grin splitting across his face. “I thought you would never ask. I was just gonna suck it up and ask you myself tomorrow.”

"You don't have to anymore," Michael says. "Will you be my boyfriend?"

"Duh," Adam grins, holding up the keyring necklace. "You're my future husband."

Michael kisses Adam so hard that they see stars and for the first time, Michael is truly happy with where he is and Adam's wait is officially over. The empty space in their lives were filled by each other and they couldn't ask for anything better.

"I love you," Michael murmurs against Adam's lips.

Adam laughs quietly, giving Michael an eskimo kiss as he replies just as softly, "I love you too."

Adam didn't like waiting, but if he could freeze time right here, he would.

It simply doesn't get more perfect than this.


	13. Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is what Adam and Michael were up to during the time frame of Novak Wears Prada (2015-2016). I left out stuff the office scene from NWP so that y'all won't have to reread the same scenes if you came from that fic but the Lenox Hill one is still here because Adam and Michael have their own side of the story to that scene that I felt should be left in.

_Love is a many splendored thing! Love lifts us up where we belong. All you need is love!_   
**Moulin Rouge!**

**2015**

"You're finally living in New York City!" Kevin cheers as he walks into Adam and Michael's apartment. "Dude, when I tell you I've waited for you two to move here for so long. Does Charlie know yet?"

"Not yet, we were gonna call her over once we're done unpacking. I just couldn't wait for you to see the place," Adam says, grinning as he watches Kevin explore the apartment. Most of the bigger items like their bed, a couch and a television set had already been set up, leaving some IKEA furniture to build and several boxes to unpack. It faintly reminds them of how they first met outside the dormitories of Wisconsin University. Michael liked that they lived together as best friends and now as boyfriends.

Dating Adam for the past three years has been nothing short of the best years of Michael’s life. He loved this; he loved that they have an apartment full of them, that his closest friends knew how much he loved Adam. He felt so lucky.

Kevin looks over excitedly. "So I'm the first one to see this place? That's awesome—"

"Actually, my aunt already visited us before you," Michael corrects, smiling in amusement. "Sorry, Kevin."

Kevin frowns at that, saying, "Come on, just let me have this one."

"Of course. Brag away."

Opening the flaps of one of the moving boxes to see what's inside, Kevin comments, "This place is good, though. It's got some branded shops nearby, transportation's a bit more efficient in this part of the city..." He moves across the room to the window, continuing, "And look at that _view_!"

"Not a cheap view," Michael says, sarcastically rolling his eyes.

"I paid for some of it!" Adam points out defensively, making Kevin burst out in laughter. "Not my fault that you're the famous one."

"I know, baby," Michael grins, leaning over to press a kiss to Adam's temple before leaving to the kitchen to organise the silverware and food.

Once Michael is out of earshot, Adam asks, "So, how's work at NOVAK? You rarely talk about it when we call."

"It's good. Stressful because clients have been piling up lately and we're all just trying to churn out quality work. We don't want to let any stars down," Kevin says. "There was this new guy that got hired last November as Mr Novak's assistant. He's actually pretty hot but I'm also sure he does not see me as anything other than a friend."

"Aw, I'm sorry, buddy," Adam says, patting Kevin's shoulder with a smile. "Better luck next time."

Kevin points out, "And with his job of following Mr Novak everywhere and making all his calls, running every errand, fixing each mistake, keeping celebrities at peace if Mr Novak isn't around to do that... He won't have time for a love life of any kind either way."

"Won't that mean you don't have time too?"

"Yeah, but a guy can dream," Kevin says. "I'm dating the office closet. Nobody treats me better than that."

Adam jokes, "Remember to come out of that closet too."

Kevin gives him a flat look, saying sarcastically, “You’re so funny.” Kevin’s phone goes off and he quickly pulls it out of his coat pocket, picking up. “Kevin Tran here. What Dark Angel article?” A pause. “Are we still doing the... No, come on, man. I'm talking about—what? So the shoot is—For _April_? Are you out of your mind, what—"

He takes a longer pause this time, sending an exasperated expression Adam’s way as he nods along to whoever is on the other line. “Yeah. No, tell her that if Pedro Pascal calls, you _cannot_ put him on hold!”

Adam mouths, eyes wide: _You know Pedro Pascal?_

Kevin nods and continues his phone call. “Listen, tell Bess she has to call Pedro back right now before Mr Novak finds out she dropped the line on him. He’ll have her head, seriously. And the April shoot, pass that off to Pam to handle. You know I don't do errands, tell that to the PA. Okay, okay, I'm coming."

Kevin hangs up, regarding Adam with an apologetic look. “Sorry, duty calls. I gotta head back to the office.”

“It’s Saturday,” Adam gapes.

“We have just Sundays off,” Kevin explains. “Listen, I’ll call you two some time. Goodbye, I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, Kev,” Adam says, seeing him to the door. When Kevin is gone, Adam goes into the kitchen to see Michael organising the fridge. “Kevin just left.”

“Oh, I didn’t say goodbye,” Michael says, his eyes still scanning the labels of the packaged food in his hands. “I’m a bit preoccupied.”

“Then let me help,” Adam says, sitting down next to Michael so they can go through the items together. “You know, I’m really glad we bought this place. I know we lived together throughout university but this feels different.”

“It does,” Michael agrees.

+

“—I can’t believe Sarah pushed me to the graveyard shift!” Adam complains, appalled, as Michael holds open the coffee shop door for him, tiny chimes tinkling overhead when they both walk in. It's Saturday, a day both of them had off from the hospital, but Adam had gotten a call before lunch by Sarah, a clerk who had assigned him to the late shift. “I told her that Jonathan wanted to take it but _noooo_ , it had to go to me because she hates my guts.”

Michael smiles loosely, reading over the menu propped up over the counter as he says, “Just admit that you don’t want the graveyard shift because the hospital creeps you out at night.” Adam grumbles at him under his breath and doesn’t even grace him with an answer, turning to the girl at the counter, Patience, and ordering his and Michael’s usual orders. Once he’s done, they get their seats at a small table by a wall to wait for their drinks.

“Is that so wrong?” he says, finally acknowledging Michael’s earlier statement. “It’s creepy! You know, Frank said he saw a ghost once.”

Entertained, Michael asks, “Where did he see it?”

“Hallway 4B.”

“Hallway 4B has vent problems, he likely saw smoke or something,” Michael assures. “You know he’s superstitious. There is no such thing as ghosts, Adam.”

“To you,” Adam mutters.

“If you want, I can try and talk Sarah into assigning me the same shift,” Michael offers with a hint of a playful smile on his face. “I hate it too but at least you won’t have to deal with the ghosts alone. And on the bright side, the chances of finding an empty closet that late—”

A surprised laugh falls out of Adam’s mouth as he buries his face in his hands, making Michael chuckle at him before Patience calls out their names to claim their drinks.

“That’s us,” Adam says, standing and going to get their drinks with a ‘thank you’. Michael takes his cup from Adam and sips straight from it while Adam blows on the top after taking off the lid. “I’ll never get how you just drink it. Isn’t it hot?”

“Like hell,” Michael replies. Adam raises his eyebrows at him like he’s insane, but takes a gulp of his own coffee anyway. As Michael lowers his cup, his eyes fall on a familiar head of dark hair and blue eyes that find his in the crowd.

Castiel Novak.

They haven’t spoken since Castiel lost it at Chuck and told Michael to never talk to him again, and now he’s here. Michael didn’t know if he should go to him or act like he didn’t see him, but he makes a decision when Adam says, “We should drink on the way back. Maybe we can think of something to bargain with Sarah about the shift.”

"Adam, wait. Remember when you told me about your brothers?” Michael asks. Adam nods, frowning a little bit in confusion, and Michael subtly points to the Castiel who’s looking at the menu. “That’s Castiel Novak. His personal assistant’s name is Dean Winchester.”

“Shit. Oh my God, _shit_ ,” Adam exhales quietly, watching Castiel tell Patience his order and stepping aside to wait for it, taking out his phone and getting on a call. Adam would never have guessed that his brother works for a guy like this—a blazer that’s half black and half brown and some patterned white shirt under that. Turning to Michael, Adam whispers, intimidated, “He looks really expensive.”

“He _is_ expensive, but that’s not the point,” Michael says. “I can introduce you, maybe you can ask him to give Dean your number.”

Adam nods quickly. “Good plan.”

That's how Michael sucks it up and crosses the coffee shop, stopping in front of Castiel with Adam’s hand in his. “Castiel?”

Castiel looks up at him from the screen—his hair is a bit longer than the last time Michael saw him, he’s obviously made an effort to keep it trimmed and styled, and if Michael still has any grasp on recognising design labels, he’s wearing Fendi. The bags under his eyes are a bit concerning but his features are sharper than before. The past three years must have been equal parts kind and unkind to him. Castiel’s eyes are unreadable when he says absently, “Michael Shurley.”

“I know we didn’t... We weren’t on good terms last we spoke but—” Michael gestures to Adam with his empty hand. “—this is Adam. I believe your personal assistant Dean is his brother.”

Castiel looks dubious at that. “I’m sorry, you must be mistaken. Dean only has one brother and his name is Sam.”

“No, I’m, uh. From a different mom,” Adam pipes up, obviously nervous. It’s definitely from the prospect of his half-brother having his number by the end of the day, but Michael thinks that maybe Adam is also tense about meeting someone like Castiel who’s mostly cold at a first impression. He’d only ever known Castiel through what little Michael has told him about him. “Sam and Dean don’t know I exist.”

I hope you can help give him my number, is what Adam had meant to say, but nerves get the best of him and instead, he asks, “Can I please come with you and see him?”

Michael stares at him and Adam knows he’s messed up—Nobody wants to meet their half-brother for the first time at work. _What the hell was he thinking?_ But it seems like Michael just takes it in stride, adding, “You’re the only connection to the Winchesters we have seen in years.”

Castiel considers it and when his name is called, he grabs his coffee. He comes back and says, “It’s your personal business so I doubt I’m in any position to make a decision about it. You can come with me back to my building but if Dean wants you to leave, you will. Are we clear?”

“Thank you,” Adam instantly says, and Castiel doesn’t say anything, walking straight for the door.

The walk back to the NOVAK building is mostly silent—Adam is nervous, practising what to say to Dean in his mind, Castiel gets call after call and is too occupied to talk to either man, and Michael has no idea if he and Castiel are okay or not. At some point, Adam turns to Michael and says, “I fucked up, didn’t I? Dean’s gonna get really mad at me.”

“Maybe, but—”

“Fuck, I should just tell Castiel to forget about it. This is gonna go so bad, it’s so out of the blue, he’s gonna hate me. This is so not how I thought we would meet,” Adam rambles, getting anxious.

Michael stops Adam momentarily, putting his hands on Adam’s shoulders to ground him as he says, “Hey, if Dean gets mad, just say _I_ made you go see him. I’m the one who introduced you to Castiel anyway. Make me the bad guy. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll be right there with you the whole time. You’ve got me, okay?”

Adam’s jaw works. “Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Michael says, pressing a quick kiss to Adam’s forehead. “Now come on, we need to catch up with Castiel.”

Thankfully, they get there soon, and even the elevator ride is quiet. They get off at the top floor and Castiel holds up a finger to tell them to wait for a minute. They watch as Castiel goes in, switching coffee cups with Dean.

Michael has never seen a photo of Dean Winchester before and it’s the first time he or Adam is looking at him. Dean is undoubtedly handsome, with a strong jaw and charming smile that he flashes at Castiel, dressed in what Michael thinks is Westwood. Michael can see where Dean resembles John Winchester, in their eyes and the line of their noses.

Castiel and Dean talk for a few moments, Dean’s eyes travel up and down Castiel’s body as he says something else, and then Castiel gestures for them to come in.

Adam goes in first and Michael follows, intending to just stay out of it as Adam talks to Dean. Dean looks confused as they stop in front of Dean’s desk and his eyes skate between the two as he tries to figure out who they are or why they’re here. Michael’s met enough people from the fashion industry to know he’s judging their outfits. Sure, plain white shirt, black bomber jacket and blue jeans aren’t exactly fashion-forward and neither is Adam’s flannel and denim but to be fair, they didn’t know they would be meeting Adam’s half-brother today. Otherwise, they would have dressed for the occasion.

Dean looks like he’s about to just bite it and ask who they are until Adam finally introduces, “Hi, this is Michael, and I’m Adam Winchester.” Dean’s eyes widen and he looks like he just stopped breathing for a second. Adam tries to soften the blow by adding, “Or Milligan, I go by that, mostly...” He’s starting to panic internally but he’s determined to not lose it in front of his boyfriend, his brother and Castiel, so he continues, “I’m your half-brother, your father got together with my mom? I should have come and found you guys sooner but I didn’t know how to say it, you know?”

“Yeah,” Dean says absently.

+

It doesn't go well, though Adam and Michael can't say they expected it to. It's a big bomb to drop on someone so suddenly, especially at work, but it had been an impulsive decision spurred by anxiousness.

“I’ll walk you out,” Castiel says, guiding Adam and Michael so they can leave his office and get to the elevator. Once they’re out of Dean’s earshot, he says to Adam, “I don’t think that’s how you expected it to go.”

“Yep,” Adam says, puffing out his cheeks and exhaling sharply like he’s trying to expel the nerves from the conversation. “I meant to ask you to just pass him my number but I freaked out.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Castiel says, pressing the button to call the elevator up. “I don’t think he would have called you if you did. He tends to push away things that make him upset. Compartmentalising is a problem. And Dean, he... He’s naturally angry. Try not to take it too personally. I believe he’s actually mad at your father and not you.”

“Thanks,” Adam says, though it’s obvious to Michael that he doesn’t believe him. Castiel isn’t necessarily known to be a liar though, and he clearly knows Dean better than they do.

The elevator arrives and Castiel nods once, saying, “I’ll make sure he’s alright. I’m sorry about how it went.”

Michael thinks about asking Castiel if he’s been forgiven, but he just settles for muttering a goodbye as the doors slide shut and they are left alone. He turns to Adam and instantly says, “Just forget about him. He’s not worth your time.”

“He had a point. If it weren’t for me, Dad would have gone back to them, right?” Adam folds his arms but Michael thinks it’s more to give himself comfort than closing himself off to the conversation.

“Adam, I don’t think your father would have gone back whether you were there or not,” Michael points out. “You said John told you that his wife’s death made him never want to go back. This is not on you, Adam, you shouldn’t have to take this upon yourself.”

“Yeah,” Adam agrees half-heartedly; his kindness is one of his best qualities but sometimes, Michael thinks he’s almost too kind for his own good. Case in point.

Knowing there’s nothing he can say to change Adam’s mind, Michael goes for the second-best way to cheer Adam up. “Okay, come on. I’ll tell Sarah we’re taking tomorrow off. We’ll stay home all day, watch all your favourite shows. I can bring you breakfast in bed or something. We’ll have that ice cream you like. You can raid my side of the wardrobe.”

Adam grins. “Really?”

“You’ve stolen almost half of my clothes by now but yes, you can take whatever you like,” Michael relents.

“All this because I’m upset?” Adam smiles. “Why are you so sweet on me?”

“I’m certain I said before that cheering you up is my job,” Michael says, remembering the Babe Ruth baseball that’s now put on display in their apartment. He lifts Adam’s hand with his own to press a light kiss to his knuckles. “Whether Dean decides to call you again or not, let’s forget about it, alright? What do you want to do?”

“Let’s just walk,” Adam says, bringing down their connected hands to gently swing between them as they walk. “Being with you is already making me feel a bit better.”

+

It didn't take that long before Dean had called Adam, asking him to meet him so he could properly apologise for his outburst at the office when they met. He explained that it had been years of pent up frustration at John and it all spilt out at the wrong person, him. Dean even told Adam that he would like to try and build a relationship with him; just because John had failed to parent his children and they'd grown up separately didn't mean that they had to keep going down that path.

Adam agreed with him, which led to Dean inviting him to talk over coffee, wanting to introduce him to the other Winchester son, Sam. He’d explained that Sam had to fly back to Stanford soon and Adam remembered that back in their first year of medical school, Amelia told him she had an ex-boyfriend named Sam who moved to Stanford to study law. Though he and Michael had made the connection a long time ago even without the Stanford detail, the coincidence still blew Adam’s mind.

They agreed to meet at Adam’s favourite café near the hospital and Dean had said yes when Adam asked if Michael could come along, though Michael had ended up being taken away to help a doctor before they could leave so he ended up going alone.

When he comes in, he spots Dean almost instantly near the window, the tall brunet man next to him points to him, and smiles, walking over. He greets, “Hi, Sam. I’m Adam.”

Sam offers him a more reserved smile. “Hey.” He has moderately long hair that stops at the base of his neck, a long fringe tucked behind his ears and a sharp nose just as Amelia described him long ago. Adam tries to be rid of the awkward formalities by starting with, “Dean told me you have a girlfriend, Eileen, right? How is she?”

Sam launches into talking about his girlfriend, “She’s great. I’m excited to get back to Cali. God, I miss her. She’s a teacher, so she’s always busy with grading homework and all that.” He stops, if only to consider how to help Adam’s effort to continue the conversation, and says, “Dean mentioned you’re dating someone named Michael. How’s that going?”

 _I want to marry him_ , Adam thinks instantly and it’s almost a shock because he’d never even thought about it since the time they made the 40-year pact in med school. He supposes it’s not a far cry that this thought has crossed his mind. They’ve been dating for close to three years now. Though with the way they acted the whole time, they might as well have been dating for all five years of knowing one another.

He says instead, “The bastard let me come here alone so he could work.”

Sam laughs and drinks his coffee, admitting, “Man, Dean showed me Michael’s photo on Google—you know, paparazzi—and I did not think tall, dark and mysterious would be your thing.” He adds, an afterthought, “But I guess I wouldn’t know.”

They talk a bit more about their own lives, trying their best to catch each other up, and then Dean stands for a cookie and Adam follows him. Now alone, Adam says, “Dad talked to me.”

Dean flashes a smile to the cashier and moves away from the cookie jar, asking Adam, “What?”

“He came to see me at work and he told me to pass a message to you the next time I see you,” Adam explains.

Dean regards him with bewilderment. “What, he can’t tell me himself? I have a phone.”

Apologetically, Adam says, “You didn’t give him your number. He wanted me to pass you his contact and to tell you that he wanted to meet you and Sam, actually talk things out. He felt like the first time, it didn’t pan out. He wanted to try again, that he owed you two that much.” He takes out a folded note from his jacket, passing it to Dean. Dean opens it, staring silently at the paper; Adam can’t imagine what's going through his mind.

Dean doesn’t look up from the note. “How much of that was actually his words?”

“I paraphrased,” Adam answers. John’s exact words were ‘Look, the kid didn’t even give me his number, how do you expect me to do anything? His boss will have me shown off the property if I turn up at his workplace. I want to talk to them but he’s being difficult. If I had the chance, I’ll do it, but he won’t give it to me.’

“Thanks,” Dean says, unconvinced of John’s true feelings about it.

Adam hesitates a little before deciding to say, “Michael’s sorry about bombarding you at work too.”

Dean levels him a look. “Okay, and how much of that was actually his words?”

“I paraphrased,” Adam repeats his earlier answer. Actually, Michael hadn’t said a word about it since their talk on the way back from their first meeting with Dean; true to his word, he'd done his best to help Adam forget about it. While finding Dean at work was Adam’s mistake, Michael did try to tell Dean to pack up his anger. Though Adam appreciated Michael standing up for him, Adam was also trying to win his brother over. “Not so much paraphrased as just apologising on his behalf. Michael tends to be... lacking tact sometimes. Gets it from his dad, I think. Chuck Shurley doesn’t do a good job of knowing if people hate him or not and Mike’s better at knowing how people feel, just not so great at acting accordingly.” Even if Michael didn’t want to admit it, it’s obvious that he and Chuck share the trait of being generally unaware of emotions. Amara pointed it out once before too.

Dean laughs, though Adam can tell it’s plastic, and asks, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s Dad like? You know, when you were growing up. Just tell me, I want to know,” Dean says.

Adam contemplates not answering but if Dean’s asking, then he will. “He does spend a lot of time at work, but what hours he isn’t busy spending fixing up other people’s cars, he spends with us. He watched all my baseball games, took me to some out of town ones.” He considers telling him about all the times where John missed his birthday over the years, the time he’d forgotten him at a baseball game until Kate came back for him five hours later, or when John didn’t bother telling Adam he had brothers until he was 20. Not to compete, just to let him know it wasn’t all that great to have John around either.

The more he thinks about it, the more it sounds like it’ll just make it worse.

He leaves it out.

Dean nods, casting a gaze that’s equal parts bitter and longing at the floor before glancing over at Sam. “Okay.”

+

Michael is pissed.

He thought that after years of barely talking since the fallout with Castiel, Chuck would have learned some tact, some sense of privacy and boundaries. Clearly, he hasn't; Michael wakes up to texts from Gabriel, Kevin and Charlie saying that someone has leaked Castiel's fall collection designs to Dick Roman, a rival fashion brand of Castiel's.

He calls Gabriel first, knowing that with all his connections, he likely has the most information about the situation. Gabriel tells him as much as he knows—Castiel's most trusted employees and Chuck were in that studio with all the designs and a week later, those very designs are walking down Leviathan's runway in slipshod quality.

Michael leaves a note on their bedside table telling Adam that he'll be back in the afternoon before he leaves. He hails a cab to go straight to Chuck's apartment, his mind reeling with so many words of anger that he feels like he's burning on the inside from years of rage at his father's endless errors.

A man leaves Chuck's apartment, only nodding once at Michael in acknowledgement as he passes by, and Chuck stands at the doorway with a steaming cup of coffee. He looks surprised to see Michael and asks, "What are you doing here?"

"I've had enough," Michael says, walking into the apartment without waiting for Chuck to welcome him in.

"Enough of what?" Chuck questions, closing the door behind him as he raises an eyebrow at Michael. "If this is about that guy that just left..."

"I don't care who you date," Michael interrupts, irritated. "I just want to know why you leaked Castiel's designs."

Seeing no reason for a pretence in front of his son, Chuck answers honestly, "Roman pays well when he's desperate for good work."

"My father is a _sellout_." Michael almost laughs. "How do you think Amara is going to react when she finds out you did that?"

"Frankly, what I do isn't her or your business," Chuck says. "And so what if I sold them? Castiel can just design more."

Michael scoffs, disbelieving. He cannot comprehend why he ever wanted to be a good son anymore. "You are dishonest, intrusive, unreasonable and so full of yourself that you can't even begin to understand that someone else is always getting hurt by the things you do. Would you just open your eyes and _see_?"

"The past couple of years, you keep rejecting any effort of mine to mend our relationship. Fine, I can give up. But you don't get to blame me because at least I tried. If you would rather live the rest of your life angry at me for something I could never control then that is not my fault. And you're not a designer, you don't know how much work goes into even _one_ dress. He can't just 'design more'," Michael continues, telling Chuck every grievance that has piled up over the years. "If you want to be difficult, don't drag everybody else down with you."

"What has gotten into you?" Chuck questions, eyes widened in bewilderment. "Michael, I—"

"Stop," Michael cuts over. "I spent my whole life listening to you, but now you're going to listen to me. I don't care what you do anymore. From today onwards, you will never have to see me again. I'm tired of being your punching bag when life doesn't go your way. And—" He gives Chuck a wry smile. "—Adam is my boyfriend. I've been dating him for three years and we just moved in together in January. I don't care that you don't like him. One day, I will ask him to marry me and you won't be there. Goodbye."

+

Adam has no idea where Michael would go to that early in the day so when he opens the door that afternoon, he gets caught off-guard by Michael instantly kissing him, mumbling a quiet ‘hey, sweetheart’ against his lips.

“Hey, angel boy,” Adam greets, pushes the door closed with his fingertips as he kisses back before he realises something is wrong when his cheeks feel wet. He pulls away and fixes his eyes on Michael’s face, seeing tears track down to his jaw.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asks, wiping off a tear with his thumb as Michael flinches. He’d never liked being so open with his more negative emotions, even after dating Adam for years now.

“You look really handsome today,” Michael says, blatantly ignoring Adam’s question as he tries to kiss him again, mouth moving down his neck. Adam, distracted, exhales shakily before he finally moves away again.

“Okay, Michael? Stop. If you won’t talk about it, then no, you can’t go any further,” Adam says and Michael instantly withdraws his hands. He gives him a look that Adam already knows well—he didn’t want to talk about it—but Adam adds, “You can’t always bury your feelings. It's not healthy, please talk to me.”

Michael sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Something cropped up between my father and Castiel and I wanted to know why he did what he did, but I ended up telling my father that I’m dating you and that I didn’t care if he liked it or not."

“You didn’t have to tell him if you didn’t want to. You don’t owe him anything,” Adam says, though he does bring Michael into a hug. Michael breathes in deep as he buries his face in the crook of Adam’s neck—he smells like that new body soap they bought last week.

“I know, I wanted to,” Michael says. “You’re more important to me than he ever was. I don’t care if I never see him again if it means I get to see you forever.”

Adam leans back to kiss Michael’s cheek, saying, “I’ll put Moulin Rouge on and we can do whatever you like until you smile.”

Michael forces a grin.

“A _real_ smile,” Adam says, tugging Michael towards the couch. “Cheering you up is my job too, remember?”

“You never let me forget,” Michael says. Adam goes to find Moulin Rouge on their streaming service and Michael watches him silently. Adam finally finds it and goes to get them some snacks from the cabinets while the movie is loading, singing Lady Marmalade to himself as he brings the food over.

God, Michael can’t wait to marry this boy.

+

Michael had been more than happy to come out of helping with surgery to see Adam waiting for him. The hug Adam wrapped him in was more than welcome after hours of seeing blood and white hospital gowns.

“I’m too tired to make dinner tonight,” Michael admits once Adam draws back. When they started their residencies at the hospital, they agreed to wait for the other to finish work before they’d go home and make dinner together.

Always so understanding, Adam grins—despite how many times he has seen him smile in the past years, Michael can never get over the feeling he gets, something so sweet and golden that spreads through his chest when it happens. Adam says, “I know you are, so why don’t we just get dinner on the way home? I think Three Guys is still open. I’ve already clocked out, so you go get changed and then we can go eat. Sound good?”

Michael manages to smile despite his weening energy. “I’d like to kiss you right now but it’d be unsanitary.”

“Go change,” Adam laughs, making way for him to get cleaned up. “You can kiss me later.”

Half an hour later, they’re pushing through the doors of Three Guys and Adam squints to read the menu above the counter, saying, “I’m thinking of getting spaghetti. They served it today at the hospital but honestly, it looks like it went bad years ago.”

“Then you should get it,” Michael says, nodding. “I’ll have it too.”

“If you insist. I’m gonna ask for more meatballs,” Adam says, endearingly joyful over the prospect of having warm spaghetti. Michael looks for a vacant booth for them knowing that Adam preferred the privacy and spaciousness of them over regular tables, and then he sees Dean Winchester nursing cold weather with coffee that no longer has steam.

Michael frowns, confused, and taps Adam’s hand to get his attention. Adam glances at him, one eyebrow raised in question, and Michael points at Dean. “It’s your brother.”

Adam looks over and says, surprised, “Hey, it is.” His hand raises to pat Michael’s chest when he requests, “Can you go talk to him? I need to tell the server where we’ll be sitting.”

Michael has never spoken to Dean alone before and he’d be lying if he said he was excited to. Still, he nods and goes to Dean, knocking two fingers against the tabletop. “Dean?” Dean looks up and Michael sees nothing but sadness. “What’s wrong?”

Dean ignores his question, straightening up in his seat and wiping his eyes as if it’ll erase every trace of pain. “What are you doing here? Thought you guys worked the night shift on Mondays.”

Michael points out, concerned, “Today is Wednesday.”

Dean looks at him blankly and checks the clock on his phone to affirm it. Michael is a little surprised to see that the lock screen is Castiel, happier than he’s ever seen him be before, but it piques his curiosity when Dean frowns at it with yearning. Dean grumbles, “What do you know, it is Wednesday.”

He sits down on the opposite side of the booth across from Dean and repeats, “Dean, what happened? What are you doing in Lenox Hill?”

Dean flaps his hand as if to dismiss Michael, saying unconvincingly, “Look, I’m fine.” He clears his throat when Adam arrives, trying to recollect himself, and Michael moves in so Adam has space. Adam is about to launch into happy hellos when he sees Dean and his face falls quickly.

“Dean? Are you okay? Did something happen to Sam?” Adam asks. When Dean doesn’t say anything, Adam casts Michael a short glance and guesses, “Castiel?” Dean’s jaw tightens and Adam knows he’s right. “Talk to me, come on.”

“Cas and I broke up last week,” Dean admits, staring at his cold coffee.

Adam turns to Michael, raising his eyebrows as he begins some telepathic conversation with him— _They were dating?_ —Michael furrows his own, equally confused— _I didn’t know they were either_ —Adam jerks his head slightly towards Dean— _Castiel’s your friend, right? Maybe you know what to say_ — Michael’s mouth falls open just a little bit and he shakes his head— _But he’s your brother._

Finally, Adam says, “I thought you two were really close.”

Dean sips his coffee, flinching at the dropped temperature of it, and his hold on the cup tightens. “John wanted to meet the person I was dating so I said I had to check with Cas because he might not have time. He didn’t take it so well.” Michael can see in the tiniest ways Adam’s expression changes—the almost unnoticeable twitch of his right eye, the way his hands lace together, and how his throat works. “He didn’t like that Castiel was a busy guy?”

“He didn’t like that Cas wasn’t a woman,” Dean says.

Michael can feel the way Adam’s heart breaks. He knows Adam’s always suspected that John would be intolerant, it was why he asked Kate not to say anything about them to him, but he knows that never getting any confirmation had been a comfort of sorts. The suspicion was better than the knowledge for Adam.

“Fuck,” Adam says, voice so fragile. “Dean, I’m sorry.”

“That’s not even the worst part, I just got so angry that I—“ Dean abruptly cuts himself off, looking out of the window before a slow breath is dragged out of him. He turns back to Adam, eyes flickering to Michael for a second, and asks, “Is this why you didn’t tell him about Michael? Because you knew this would happen?”

He knows Adam can’t come up with an answer, so Michael steps in despite how uncomfortable emotional talk always made him, “Dean. Adam didn’t know how John would react. He never told him partially because of that uncertainty, but it was because he thought he didn’t owe John anything. Sure, John tried to raise him, but he didn’t owe him anything. Neither do you.”

“I know I don’t. But it’s just...” Dean pauses to take a breath. “God, I hate him so much but he was my dad and I thought he was trying to fix things between us, and then he says this is wrong and asks me to hide that part of myself. It got me so angry.”

Michael tries his best to comfort him, saying, “What little I know about John, I know that he is fairly unreasonable and tends to step on toes without even trying.” Adam raises an eyebrow at him— _What are you trying to say?_ —so Michael gets to the point, “What I’m trying to say is that your anger was not unwarranted and you have the right to feel the way you do.”

Dean says, nine shades of hurt and regret flickering across his face, “But I hurt Cas and I regret it so bad but I can’t keep hiding. I want to just go to his place, beg him to take me back if he doesn’t hate me by now. I haven’t turned up for work but he hasn’t called to fire me or anything but he probably should, I’m being a shitty assistant and ex; I hate that we’re exes, I hate what I did but I can’t go on—“

He’s going to start rambling himself into oblivion so Michael asserts, “Take a breath, Dean. In all my years of knowing Castiel, I know he doesn’t fire employees if they have a good reason for their actions. He must know that you’re torn up about John and what happened between you.”

Dean nods slowly. “I’m going back to work tomorrow.”

Adam gently pats Dean’s hand with his own in an attempt to comfort him. “Hey, if you don’t want to, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Dean denies, “Three days is already pushing my luck. It’s awards season and then Fashion Week in a couple of months, I need to go back. I can’t avoid him forever.”

A waitress comes by and flashes all of them a winning smile, putting down Adam and Michael’s plates of spaghetti before she leaves them be. Dean’s phone vibrates and he picks it up to read the message before he says dejectedly, “His brother wants to see me tomorrow.”

“Gabriel isn’t a harsh guy,” Michael says—Gabriel may have strong opinions sometimes and be a bit too protective over his brother but being extremely mean was never his thing.

Dean turns his phone over to show them the text:

 **[17 November 2015, 7:52 PM]**  
 **Gabe:** If you’re up to it, you’re going to work tomorrow and getting him his coffee like you always do, but you and I are going for lunch tomorrow to talk, no negotiation.

Michael adds, “He’s more bark than bite.”

Dean puts his phone down. “I hope you’re right. Sorry to hold you guys up, please eat your spaghetti.”

Adam spears some spaghetti with his fork, assuring, “It’s okay. And we won’t tell anyone about you and Castiel. I think you told us on accident.”

It seems to hit Dean then, what he had let slip, and he mutters some profanities to himself. “Oh, fuck me. I’m the worst boyfriend ever.”

“No, come on, hey. You didn’t mean it. You can trust us, alright?” Adam says.

Dean says, and though it felt insulting, it was clearly a tactless comment, “Yeah, like this guy’s dad didn’t sell out my boyfriend.” His gaze snaps up at Michael, looking ashamed that he’d said that in front of him. “I mean... I know that wasn’t your fault, I was just...”

Michael presses his lips together and nods slowly. “I get it. If it makes you feel better, I rarely speak to my father since what happened with Castiel’s collection. I would never feed him gossip about him. You have my word. I am sorry about what happened with your father and know that Adam and I will try our best to help you where we can.”

Adam casts him a concerned stare—Michael had never told him he stopped talking to his father. It’s obvious they’re going to talk about it once they’re home, whether Michael wants to or not.

Dean glances between them, seeing the effort Michael puts into helping Dean feel better just because he loved his brother, and says, “You know what? Since John will never do it, I will. You’re a part of the family, Michael.”

Michael cocks his head—he didn't see that coming. "Thank you."

+

“You stopped talking to Chuck?” Adam asks the moment they reach home. Adam had been nice enough to avoid the topic on the walk home but of course, that had to end sometime.

“Yes,” Michael answers, putting his keys down on the shelf by the door. “Since the time I told him I was dating you. I thought it was time to let him leave my life.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t going to talk to him again?” Adam asks. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

Michael gives him a tired smile. “You played my favourite movie and wouldn’t stop singing the songs all day. You even used your bad French accent that night. You cheered me up. I’d qualify that as being there for me.”

“Still,” Adam insists. “How do you feel?”

“Free,” Michael answers honestly. “Now that I’m not trying to live up to this vision of me he has in his mind, that unreachable standard he always had of me, I’m doing much better. I know who my real family is.”

Adam smiles sincerely. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

“It makes me wonder why I didn’t do that before,” Michael says.

“What matters is that you did it. I’m proud of you. He was a pretty mean dad,” Adam says. Jokingly, he adds, “Plus, he didn’t like me.”

Michael grins, resting his forehead against Adam’s as the tip of their noses brush. “That was a major red flag.”

“Major Red Flag!” Adam quickly salutes, a reference to one of many romcoms, and Michael rolls his eyes before pulling Adam into a kiss, making Adam’s words melt into murmurs against his lips.

“I’m going to marry you someday,” Michael whispers. “The minute we can, I’ll marry you.”

Adam still has the keyring from their pact proposal—he has no idea that Michael has already been looking at rings.


	14. Pact

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.  
 **Moulin Rouge!**

**2016**

“Jesus, I missed you! Sorry, Dorothy couldn't come, she got tied up at work.”

“It's alright, maybe next time. Hey, Charles,” Adam greets, laughing as the redhead lunges at him to pull him into a tight embrace. “It’s only been a few months.”

“Feels like _years_ ,” Charlie mutters into his shoulder before pulling away to give Michael a more tame hug. “I’m so sorry it’s even been months since we saw each other. Work’s been so busy, you know... There’s never a calm day in fashion.”

Michael says sarcastically, “We know. Kevin never lets us forget.”

“For good reason so you never forget why I’m always burned out,” Kevin jokes, coming through the door to hug each of them hello.

Mick appears behind them with Amelia’s arm hooked around his and he greets them, apologetically saying, “Benny couldn’t make it. He says business at his cajun place has been picking up lately, couldn’t take a day off.”

“I’d say it’s terrible he couldn’t make it but I’m glad his business is doing well,” Michael says, making room in the living room for them all to sit. They’d all decided to meet up at Michael and Adam’s apartment as a reunion and because Mick insisted that there was going to be something important on the news.

“What even is this news anyway?” Amelia questions as she separates from Mick to hang her coat by the door. “You’ve been tight-lipped the whole way here.”

“I’m not sure. My friend was tight-lipped too, as you’d say. The price you pay for working politics,” Mick admits. “All I know is that it’s supposed to be big. They said I’d go insane about it.”

Mick shrugs, taking the remote from Adam to turn on their television. “Good way, apparently. I can’t imagine what it is.”

They see the president on the news, saying, “ _This morning, the Supreme Court recognised that the constitution guarantees marriage equality._ ”

Everyone stops where they are and Mick says quietly, “Oh. So _that’s_ what it is.”

"No way," Amelia exhales. "It's happening."

Charlie jumps up from where she’s sitting and pulls her phone out of her pocket, running to the kitchen for some privacy. “I gotta call Dean!”

Adam feels numb all over. Michael thinks he feels too much.

“ _In doing so, they’ve reaffirmed that all Americans are entitled to the equal protection of the law. That all people should be treated equally, regardless of who they are or who they love._ "

Despite being in the kitchen area, they can all still hear Charlie’s call with Dean. “Dean! Oh my God, I can’t breathe, I’m so excited! You and Castiel are close, can you please ask him if he’ll let us party at work tomorrow? Please, please, please.” Kevin seems excited by that, walking over to the kitchen to whisper to Charlie, who continues talking to Dean on the phone, seemingly moving on to new plans, “Only if I can bring Dorothy.”

Amelia turns to them, enthusiastic, and says, "It's legal! Holy shit!"

Mick says, his eyes on his phone's screen as he texts, "Well, now you two can get married, right? And don't even try to act oblivious, we all know it's just a matter of time."

Michael and Adam exchange stares; although each of them knew their own stance on getting married—their stance being that they were both more than enthusiastic about the idea—they hadn't actually discussed it since the 40-year pact they made during university. Yet, they've always been comfortable about it. If Michael reached far enough back into his memories of Adam, he could think of a few instances where hints might have been dropped.

"Maybe!" Adam settles for the safest answer, grinning nervously as he turns a little red in his face. Michael can practically hear the 'yes' in it.

+

The ring Michael buys doesn’t look that simple but it is beautiful. Once he’d told Amara his plans to propose, she had invited him out to take him engagement ring shopping. They hit all the reigning jewellery shops—Tiffany and Co., Chopard, Bvlgari—and after hours of indecisiveness, Michael finally settles on a ring they find in the window of a Cartier shop. Three kinds of gold with a pretty diamond that sits on them.

“Amara, wait,” Michael calls out to get her to stop as he slows in front of the ring. “That’s the one.”

Amara walks back to look at the ring and she smiles widely, agreeing, “It’s beautiful, Michael. I don’t know how you’ll pick a wedding ring that will outdo this engagement one.”

“I’ll outdo it,” Michael assures, the corner of his mouth pulling up in elation. “I’m getting that.”

Following her nephew into the store, she asks, “Are you getting anything engraved? It would be pretty romantic, right?”

“I’ve been thinking about that for a while,” Michael admits, turning away momentarily to ask a staff member to bring the ring to the counter. “I think I’ll put ‘522’.” At Amara’s curious look, he explains, “I’ve had so many ideas on what I could have engraved on it. Our initials, maybe something he or I said. An inside joke, a Moulin Rouge! quote, a medical joke, our shared birthday, the baseball. Maybe the date we met, the date I asked him out, the date we kissed. Or maybe just the word ‘finally’.” The staff returns with the ring and Michael takes it from her, turning it over between his fingers. “I ran through our history together and couldn’t decide. I didn’t know what reference to engrave in our engagement rings. But what I do know is where it all really began, right in that tiny dorm room.”

Amara grins, carefully taking the ring from him to look on the inside. “522. Where you really met, where you became friends, fell in love? The biggest inside ‘joke’ between you two there could be. It covers everything. I think it’s perfect.”

“I hope he thinks that too,” Michael says. “I can’t think of anything else that perfectly encapsulates us than where it started.”

Taking out his credit card, he turns to the staff and says, “I’d like to buy this ring. Could you engrave it for me?”

+

“I think you owe me ten bucks, Adam.”

“ _Not yet_ ,” Adam grins, lightly shoving Kevin.

Kevin narrows his eyes at Adam suspiciously. "I'm beginning to think you and Michael got married when you first moved to New York and then just kept it a secret so you could keep your ten bucks."

“I’m a surgeon, Kev. You really think I care that much about ten bucks?” Adam teases and Kevin rolls his eyes, shifting in his jacket. Dean had invited him, Michael, Sam and Eileen to the party held at his workplace, the NOVAK office. Michael, surprisingly, had been willing to attend such a busy event.

Now that they’re there, Adam has so far spoken to Castiel, finally having a conversation with him that isn’t about his eldest brother. Instead, they had talked about their separate lives, where Adam learned a bit about how Castiel’s career came to be. In return, Castiel now knows why Adam wanted a job in the medical field.

With his brothers, Dean talks in short sentences, pointedly trying to avoid mentioning Castiel too much. At that point, Michael has disappeared in the crowd. Adam assumes it’s to talk to Gabriel or another designer friend.

Michael, in actuality, goes back to Castiel to speak alone.

“Hello, Castiel,” Michael says, stopping next to him as he leaves Adam to talk to his brothers. A part of him fears that Castiel will be reminded of how their friendship ended with the theme of the party and ask him to leave. He and Adam were invited by his ex-boyfriend which probably doesn’t help. He readies himself to be told to get out.

Castiel surprises him—he smiles. “Hello, Michael.” Michael is relieved but doesn’t show it, and Castiel adds, “I’m glad you and Adam could make it tonight.”

Michael steels himself up and finally says, “I’m not speaking to my father anymore.”

That gets Castiel’s attention and he turns to him, eyebrows raised slightly as he begs for more context, but he does work his jaw before saying quietly, “I never said this to you but I’m sorry I cut you off like that. I know it wasn’t your fault. Sometimes, I just get so angry... I think it had to do with a part of me that, at the time, still wasn’t entirely okay with who I was.”

“And now?”

“Now, I’m okay. Now, I’m proud. It gets easier over time,” Castiel answers, looking across the crowded hall to see Dean, talking animatedly with his hands to Adam and Sam. As if an afterthought, Castiel adds, “I take it that you and Adam figured things out years ago. Honestly, I wish I was there to see it.”

Michael’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion. “You didn’t meet Adam before Dean, how would you have known about us?”

“Just the way you spoke about him, that time I visited your university,” Castiel answers, fingers mindlessly rotating the single thin glass of champagne in his hand as he squints to see Dean a little more clearly across the room. Perhaps he’s trying to drink up as much Dean as he can get from the distance. “You barely mentioned him and you certainly didn’t wax poetic but just the little details you remembered about him that friends don’t normally care about; I recall when you told me which jackets of yours he liked best, or that he scrunches his nose when he’s unimpressed. I never met him until you introduced us but I thought it was obvious that you liked him and a part of me always knew you would go after that boy eventually.”

“It seems like it was obvious to everyone but me.” Michael huffs a quiet chuckle.

"First love can be like that." Castiel smiles back at him. “But you’re here now, right? Took you long enough.”

Michael laughs again and even Castiel does the same. He clears his throat when his eyes catch Adam’s across the room and he says, “About the announcement, I think I have something I want to tell you about.”

“What is it?” Castiel asks, glancing to follow Michael’s hand as he brings out a velvet box from his blazer. Castiel’s eyes widen and look between it and Michael, almost in disbelief. “Are you asking him tonight?”

“No, we both hate public proposals, we think they are extremely pressurising. I’m asking him privately. I only brought it tonight because, well, I wanted to tell you,” Michael says, tucking it back out of sight. “We stopped talking years ago and, though I wish it was under better circumstances, we did reconcile. You were a good friend of mine, I always felt like you understood me in a different way.”

“Me too. I have to admit that you and I are quite similar,” Castiel agrees contemplatively. “I’m honoured you told me. Are you nervous?”

“It’s impossible to not feel nervous about this sort of thing,” Michael replies.

Castiel and Michael find Adam again in the crowd, excitedly hugging Kevin and talking to him. His mouth moves but all they get is silence as his voice is lost to the masses. Kevin says something and then Adam’s eyes are up, searching, and when he finds Michael, he grins and waves. Castiel smiles, a small, reassuring thing, and says, “Well, I think congratulations are in order. You have nothing to be nervous about. I can’t imagine an outcome where Adam says no.”

"Thank you," Michael says sincerely. "And what about you?"

Castiel hesitates, casting a glance down at his feet in contemplation. “I have a speech to make later. My attempt to fix things.”

"I don't know what you're trying to fix," Michael lies, remembering his and Adam's conversation with Dean in the diner about their break-up. "But I know it will all be sorted out."

+

Michael relocates Adam in the crowd just as Castiel steps up to start his speech, the spotlight shining on him from overhead. Even Michael can feel the stares of a couple of hundred guests. Castiel must be used to it by now, though, with all the runway speeches he’s given in the past years. He begins speaking, “First of all, thank you for coming tonight. Yesterday, it was a big step towards a better world for all of us. I am beyond happy about what happened. I know all of us here have been waiting for this for years. Some are more enthusiastic than others.”

Charlie whoops loudly and a laugh bubbles from Adam and Michael can’t help but smile just a little bit.

“I think I speak for all of us when I say we are all proud to be here today,” Castiel says, beaming at Charlie before regarding the rest of the room. He pauses, hesitant like he’s thinking about backing out but nods once to himself, determined. He continues, “I thought fashion was the most important thing to me but it’s not. In 2014, I met someone who took over my life, even more than fashion ever has. And those who know me know that I am nothing without my career. This person... they’re really important to me and I care so much about them. If I wasn’t so frustratingly repressed, I’d give them everything.”

“Oh my God, he’s gonna tell everyone,” Adam says quietly from beside him, amazed.

”I care about them so much, I want them to have everything they want. I—I love them and if I keep hiding, I’ll never... I’ll miss out. I’ll lose them and I don’t want to lose...” Castiel trails off. He drags in a breath, runs a hand through his styled hair and rendering it untidy. “I’m sorry. I’m taking a page from your book, I’m not going to hide anymore. If I did, then this wouldn’t be love. It’d be this disposable thing not worth fighting for and that’s not what this is. You make me braver than I have ever been in my whole life, make me feel more alive than anything I have ever known.”

Castiel walks across the hall, past Adam and Michael, further into the room until he stops in front of Dean. He says something, private and for Dean’s ears only, and then they’re kissing.

Everything sorts itself out in the end after all.

+

Dinner comes a bit too soon for Michael's liking—while he can't wait to ask Adam to be his husband, nerves are also eating him alive.

Amara had offered to pay to rent out one of the higher-end restaurants in New York but Michael insists that he just wants to keep it as intimate as possible—right in their own home, the little space in the world that they have carved out and made theirs.

He asked for the day off in advance, feigning illness so Adam would go to work on his own. With Adam gone, Michael had spent the day setting up the apartment to look proposal-worthy. By the time evening begins coming around, the apartment has a romantic glow to it and Michael has cooked them dinner that looks pretty good if he says so himself.

When Adam returns home, he’s stunned by the sight. “Michael, I thought you were sick.”

“It was just an excuse to stay home and set this up,” Michael confesses, taking Adam’s coat off of his shoulders to hang it on the rack. “Welcome home, Adam.”

Adam presses a kiss to Michael’s lips before turning away, looking over the dinner set up. “This looks so fucking good. Which is great, because the food at the hospital cafeteria today was spoiled so we couldn’t eat it and they gave us these weird buns that _kinda_ feels spoiled too.”

Michael chuckles, pulling out a chair for Adam to sit. “You don’t have to worry about spoiled bread anymore. I made your favourite, obviously. Eat up.”

Adam grins adorably before he starts to eat his dinner. “This is amazing! I think this is the best thing you’ve ever cooked. My mom would love this.”

“If she comes over soon, I could make it for her too.”

“Yes!” Adam says, pausing to talk. “Y’know, Penny at work was talking about how she has a promotion lined up but Ben says it’s not gonna happen because he thinks it’s gonna go to you.”

Michael blinks. “Me?”

“Yeah, because you’ve had one of the best performances here. I’m pretty close but we know they like you more.” Adam says. He coughs and mumbles almost incoherently, “Regarding the graveyard shift predicament.”

“I can’t believe you’re still not over that,” Michael laughs.

“I’m _never_ forgetting that,” Adam says dramatically. “At least we’re on the same shifts still, that’s a miracle. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a surgeon, but my days at work would not be half as good as they are if I didn’t share a shift with you—“ A soft look starts across Michael’s face and Adam cuts himself off, grinning as he asks, “What?”

“I just feel really happy,” Michael answers, and there is a gentleness in his eyes that makes Adam smile. “I’m happy that I’m having dinner with you, you’re smiling at me and you look so beautiful—you know, it’s just hitting me now, all of it. I always thought I would never fall in love until I met you and I could finally breathe... Adam, I need you more than I will ever need anything else.”

Adam tries to keep in the bubbly laugh that threatens to spill but it comes out anyway, embarrassed and happy. He teases, “You really do love me, huh?”

“I really do,” Michael says sincerely. “And I hope that you will let me love you for the rest of our lives.”

Adam pauses as Michael reaches into his jacket pocket. “What are you—”

Michael opens the small velvet box in his hands to show a little diamond ring and Adam’s mouth falls open, words lost to the moment. Michael begins, slowly getting down on one knee, “I know we agreed that we’d do this when we turned 40 but Adam, I have to be honest with you, I can’t wait that long. Will you—”

“Yes,” Adam says, staring wide-eyed at the small velvet box in Michael’s hands.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Michael chuckles, though he’s also feeling all sort of emotions he’s felt before, all feeling so entirely new at this moment.

“Yes,” Adam says again.

“Adam Milligan, will you marry me?” Michael finally throws the whole question out.

“Yes,” Adam answers once more, pulling Michael into a kiss in such a hurry that his nose bumps against Michael's clumsily. Giggling, he says, "Oh, shit. Sorry."

A smile splits over Michael's features as he jokes, "At least nobody's tripping over boxes this time."

Adam simply laughs and laughs, and he mumbles another 'yes' against Michael's lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the ring Michael bought: https://www.cartier.sg/en-sg/collections/engagement/engagement-rings/three-gold/n4204200-solitaire-ring.html
> 
> Thank you for following this! Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. To anyone who came here from Novak Wears Prada, I'm so glad you like this universe enough to read this spin-off. The crossing over of events between the two fics (Cas's Alexander Wang/Michael Kors story from NWP being given context in D522 and chapters 13 and 14) has been so fun and just developing Michael and Adam (and other NWP background characters) in this universe. Plus the callback to Adam's first words to Michael in this fic just as a little treat for myself.
> 
> Thank you for reading it :) I'm gonna miss this universe.


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